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All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | It had taken NASA only three weeks to assemble and position the largest parallax mirror ever created and seat the alien camera at the exact right distance, just over six miles above the earth, to capture 1/5th of the planet in great detail at one time. I watched the broadcast as attentively as everyone else on the planet, waiting for my turn to go outside and look up at the night sky. "If you can see the stars, it can see you," was the motto we all clung to. Just to be safe the camera would take a photo every twenty minutes for days before the film was extracted and developed ensuring the entire earth was covered and covered again. It was my turn. Most of my neighbors were outside already. You remember how it was. How you wanted to hold a candle, like at a vigil, but we already had been told: turn off your lights, no flames.
We all stood outside silently, looking up. No cars drove. No music played. The birds and insects all went on about their business. And then I stopped. I looked down, I went back inside. I got the card the NASA guy had given me, secretary Bensen, my contact. I called him. He answered on the first ring.
"It's not going to work," I said.
"What do you mean? Everything's perfect." He seemed unconcerned.
"They said 'everyone *you* photograph.' You means me. I have to do it. I have to go up into space and do it."
"We've been through this, when you gave us the camera..."
"*Lent* you the camera."
"Lent us the camera. You don't get to go up. This is too delicate to let an amateur handle it. I'm sorry..."
"You don't get it. It has to be me. Look, I'm safe. My dog, my wife, my family - we've already been photographed. We're safe. I'm telling you if I don't do it you're all going to die."
"We analyzed the camera. There's no way it can tell who took the photos."
"That doesn't matter."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because this is *Reddit*, god dammit! They're so pedantic they'll just say, 'Ah, see? Someone else photographed all those people. They'll dead anyway!'"
"I'll send a helicopter immediately and notify the press." |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | It had taken NASA only three weeks to assemble and position the largest parallax mirror ever created and seat the alien camera at the exact right distance, just over six miles above the earth, to capture 1/5th of the planet in great detail at one time. I watched the broadcast as attentively as everyone else on the planet, waiting for my turn to go outside and look up at the night sky. "If you can see the stars, it can see you," was the motto we all clung to. Just to be safe the camera would take a photo every twenty minutes for days before the film was extracted and developed ensuring the entire earth was covered and covered again. It was my turn. Most of my neighbors were outside already. You remember how it was. How you wanted to hold a candle, like at a vigil, but we already had been told: turn off your lights, no flames.
We all stood outside silently, looking up. No cars drove. No music played. The birds and insects all went on about their business. And then I stopped. I looked down, I went back inside. I got the card the NASA guy had given me, secretary Bensen, my contact. I called him. He answered on the first ring.
"It's not going to work," I said.
"What do you mean? Everything's perfect." He seemed unconcerned.
"They said 'everyone *you* photograph.' You means me. I have to do it. I have to go up into space and do it."
"We've been through this, when you gave us the camera..."
"*Lent* you the camera."
"Lent us the camera. You don't get to go up. This is too delicate to let an amateur handle it. I'm sorry..."
"You don't get it. It has to be me. Look, I'm safe. My dog, my wife, my family - we've already been photographed. We're safe. I'm telling you if I don't do it you're all going to die."
"We analyzed the camera. There's no way it can tell who took the photos."
"That doesn't matter."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because this is *Reddit*, god dammit! They're so pedantic they'll just say, 'Ah, see? Someone else photographed all those people. They'll dead anyway!'"
"I'll send a helicopter immediately and notify the press." |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | It had taken NASA only three weeks to assemble and position the largest parallax mirror ever created and seat the alien camera at the exact right distance, just over six miles above the earth, to capture 1/5th of the planet in great detail at one time. I watched the broadcast as attentively as everyone else on the planet, waiting for my turn to go outside and look up at the night sky. "If you can see the stars, it can see you," was the motto we all clung to. Just to be safe the camera would take a photo every twenty minutes for days before the film was extracted and developed ensuring the entire earth was covered and covered again. It was my turn. Most of my neighbors were outside already. You remember how it was. How you wanted to hold a candle, like at a vigil, but we already had been told: turn off your lights, no flames.
We all stood outside silently, looking up. No cars drove. No music played. The birds and insects all went on about their business. And then I stopped. I looked down, I went back inside. I got the card the NASA guy had given me, secretary Bensen, my contact. I called him. He answered on the first ring.
"It's not going to work," I said.
"What do you mean? Everything's perfect." He seemed unconcerned.
"They said 'everyone *you* photograph.' You means me. I have to do it. I have to go up into space and do it."
"We've been through this, when you gave us the camera..."
"*Lent* you the camera."
"Lent us the camera. You don't get to go up. This is too delicate to let an amateur handle it. I'm sorry..."
"You don't get it. It has to be me. Look, I'm safe. My dog, my wife, my family - we've already been photographed. We're safe. I'm telling you if I don't do it you're all going to die."
"We analyzed the camera. There's no way it can tell who took the photos."
"That doesn't matter."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because this is *Reddit*, god dammit! They're so pedantic they'll just say, 'Ah, see? Someone else photographed all those people. They'll dead anyway!'"
"I'll send a helicopter immediately and notify the press." |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| It had taken NASA only three weeks to assemble and position the largest parallax mirror ever created and seat the alien camera at the exact right distance, just over six miles above the earth, to capture 1/5th of the planet in great detail at one time. I watched the broadcast as attentively as everyone else on the planet, waiting for my turn to go outside and look up at the night sky. "If you can see the stars, it can see you," was the motto we all clung to. Just to be safe the camera would take a photo every twenty minutes for days before the film was extracted and developed ensuring the entire earth was covered and covered again. It was my turn. Most of my neighbors were outside already. You remember how it was. How you wanted to hold a candle, like at a vigil, but we already had been told: turn off your lights, no flames.
We all stood outside silently, looking up. No cars drove. No music played. The birds and insects all went on about their business. And then I stopped. I looked down, I went back inside. I got the card the NASA guy had given me, secretary Bensen, my contact. I called him. He answered on the first ring.
"It's not going to work," I said.
"What do you mean? Everything's perfect." He seemed unconcerned.
"They said 'everyone *you* photograph.' You means me. I have to do it. I have to go up into space and do it."
"We've been through this, when you gave us the camera..."
"*Lent* you the camera."
"Lent us the camera. You don't get to go up. This is too delicate to let an amateur handle it. I'm sorry..."
"You don't get it. It has to be me. Look, I'm safe. My dog, my wife, my family - we've already been photographed. We're safe. I'm telling you if I don't do it you're all going to die."
"We analyzed the camera. There's no way it can tell who took the photos."
"That doesn't matter."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because this is *Reddit*, god dammit! They're so pedantic they'll just say, 'Ah, see? Someone else photographed all those people. They'll dead anyway!'"
"I'll send a helicopter immediately and notify the press." |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | 362 Days
It's funny how quickly we forget. The aliens came and told us the rules:
1. The camera goes to the largest group of humans in 24 hours.
2. The camera has infinite storage and film.
3. Any person whose photo is on the camera gets to live.
4. You have 365 days.
Riots broke out, religions formed and crumbled, World War 3 almost started on 6 separate occasions, all in 24 hours. Eventually it was the combination of almost every space organization that got the camera. The plan was simple: Put it on a satellite. Then it was over, they said we were safe. It was amazing how quickly it didn't even matter, no one cared, no one nuked anyone. The mission was a success. Humanity had gone through hell and come out stronger, at least that's what we told ourselves. In the end we all knew that 90% of humanity had turned to savages when it looked like the world would end. That is why we tried to forgot, to listen to the "alternative facts." We had saved ourselves after all, we "earned" it.
I sit here now on my high horse, but I was no exception. I didn't even know how close we were until tonight. It really was no one's fault, I tried to brake but it was dark and rainy, he came out of nowhere. We collided and he was sent flying out of his car. Somehow I was almost uninjured so being the good Samaritan I thought I was I went to check on him. As soon as I got close I realized who it was and I started to go from shock to panic. It was the astronaut who took the photos that saved humanity.
It took me a few minutes of hyperventilating I realized he was still alive. I started a pathetic attempt at CPR. "Don't bother," he wheezed in between my verses of Stayin' Alive. When I realized I definitely wasn't helping he tried to lean close to my ear to tell me something. When I saw how weak he was I leaned toward him. "Whatever you do don't read the engraving", at this point I thought he was hallucinating, so I tried to make him comfortable until I saw the camera. It was the camera that had saved us all, then I suddenly remembered the date and corrected myself, the camera that *would* save us all in just 3 days. Then I saw the engraving, I'm ashamed to say that at this point I had completely forgotten about the astronaut and was trying to convince myself not to read the engraving.
"IF YOU ARE READING THIS,I AM SO SORRY. WE MADE A MISTAKE. WE THOUGHT INFINITE MEANT INVINCIBLE. ZERO GRAVITY SOMEHOW BROKE THE CAMERA AND NO MATTER HOW GOOD OUR SCIENTISTS WERE THERE WAS NO WAY WE COULD FIX SOMEHING INFINITE."
When I looked up and the astronaut saw my face his last expression was not the one of guilt or sadness I was expecting, but the smile of a man who knew he would not have to wait those 3 days, the smile of a man who no longer had to bear the burden that I now bear.
_______________________________________________________
Sorry if my formatting is garbage, on my phone.
This is my first time writing so please critique me
Thanks for reading
Edit: I suck at grammar #1 | I snap another photo. "Beautiful, thanks!" I grin, waving the subject along and summoning the next with a practiced ease. Again, I take a picture. This goes on for the next 10 hours, waving and pressing, waving and pressing. Afterwards, I hop in my car and drive to the next city. This cycle continued for the allotted year, but tomorrow marks the end. I consider taking a picture of myself, but I am old and tired and perhaps that is why they chose me. I'm not tired of life, but I'm ready to rest. After all, I've saved everyone who matters. I would stand out like a sore thumb. I set the camera on my nightstand and go to sleep for the last time.
Soon after, the aliens' ship is hovering over Earth, observing the blue and green mass.
"Ey, boss, can I flip the switch? Let's get this job over with already."
A more grizzled alien regards his inferior with a sigh. "No, you Zeboz, we have contractual obligations, remember? Send up the people we had that old lady photograph. That stupid Foreign Life Preservation Act means we can't technically kill everyone."
The inferior suppresses a yawn and hits another button. "Alright, alright."
The two aliens peer into the containment chamber and watch as the chosen survivors begin to spawn in. But to their surprise, not a single human appears. Only thousands upon thousands of very confused cats. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember waking up, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw myself floating away from the comfortable bed I had been sleeping in only moments earlier. I looked up, but all I could see was a terribly bright light, the beam of it surrounding me. The light became brighter and brighter as I inched closer towards its source. I remember hearing a mechanical sound, faintly resembling the sound my garage door makes when I open it.
Moments later, I was lying on a floor, three strange creatures watching me from a distance. The creature in the brightest outfit walked towards and put out what I can only guess was his hand: "Greetings, earthling."
They had explained they had been watching for a long time and they believed our small earth could not sustain all its life for much longer. As a form of population control, they deemed it necessary to thin out the human race. They had chosen me to pick out the fated few that would live on and repopulate the earth. They gave me a camera and told me I had one year to photograph all those I wished to keep alive.
That happened a year ago. Today, I'm back up on their spaceship. These aliens think they could just suddenly decide the human race was "overpopulated". Oh boy, they'll never see this one coming!
"Hello again, Jack."
I couldn't resist to smile. "Hey there Qiznop."
"You look awfully happy for someone who will soon be responsible for the death of millions", Qiznop replied. His English was surpringly good for someone from a different planet.
This guy thought he knew so much about humans. He really thought we would give up so easily.
"Don't be so sure about it, buddy."
Qiznop looked at me. I couldn't quite understand these creatures' faces, but I'm pretty sure he looked surprised. Laughing maniacally I handed him a single photo. He stared at it for a solid minute before he opened his mouth: "what...how.."
I'll be honest with you. When I first got the camera, I was pretty scared of the consequences. It had felt like an enormous burden. At first I had thought of just photographing my family and friends. That seemed like the number one priority; after that I'd just photograph anyone I came across. But somehow that felt selfish, as if it was my duty to pick the "right" people, rather than those I would want to see alive. I wanted to photograph at least one man and women from every country to ensure genetic variety. I also wanted to pick these people based on merit, only those highly intelligent the physically strong should survive.
In the end, I had contemplated who to pick for so long that 9 months had already passed and I hadn't photographed a single person. The gnawing thought of the nearing deadline only made it harder to focus. That's when I had the genius thought that would ultimately save the human race. I went online and found one of those private space travel organizations, where they shoot you into orbit for a few hours. It cost me all my money and then some, but it was worth it. Five days before the deadline, I was shot into space. That's when I took my picture.
"This is just a picture of the earth!", Qiznop shouted.
"Yep."
"But...what!?"
"Everyone on earth is in that single picture. I guess you won't be killing anyone today after all."
Qiznop opened his mouth, but no words came out. You could see the disbelief in his eyes. He only started talking after what felt like an eternity.
"We... We needed the photographs so that we could identify the people you wanted to see alive. I told you this. How do you expect us to identify anyone from this? There's not a single recognizable face!"
"Oh."
"Besides, you do realize that you aren't in this picture either, right?"
"Oh.."
"We knew humans weren't very intelligent, but I never expected this!" Hesitantly, he picked up a device from a nearby table. "..sigh. Initiate Operation Cleanup."
And that's how I killed the entire human race.
| I snap another photo. "Beautiful, thanks!" I grin, waving the subject along and summoning the next with a practiced ease. Again, I take a picture. This goes on for the next 10 hours, waving and pressing, waving and pressing. Afterwards, I hop in my car and drive to the next city. This cycle continued for the allotted year, but tomorrow marks the end. I consider taking a picture of myself, but I am old and tired and perhaps that is why they chose me. I'm not tired of life, but I'm ready to rest. After all, I've saved everyone who matters. I would stand out like a sore thumb. I set the camera on my nightstand and go to sleep for the last time.
Soon after, the aliens' ship is hovering over Earth, observing the blue and green mass.
"Ey, boss, can I flip the switch? Let's get this job over with already."
A more grizzled alien regards his inferior with a sigh. "No, you Zeboz, we have contractual obligations, remember? Send up the people we had that old lady photograph. That stupid Foreign Life Preservation Act means we can't technically kill everyone."
The inferior suppresses a yawn and hits another button. "Alright, alright."
The two aliens peer into the containment chamber and watch as the chosen survivors begin to spawn in. But to their surprise, not a single human appears. Only thousands upon thousands of very confused cats. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | I snap another photo. "Beautiful, thanks!" I grin, waving the subject along and summoning the next with a practiced ease. Again, I take a picture. This goes on for the next 10 hours, waving and pressing, waving and pressing. Afterwards, I hop in my car and drive to the next city. This cycle continued for the allotted year, but tomorrow marks the end. I consider taking a picture of myself, but I am old and tired and perhaps that is why they chose me. I'm not tired of life, but I'm ready to rest. After all, I've saved everyone who matters. I would stand out like a sore thumb. I set the camera on my nightstand and go to sleep for the last time.
Soon after, the aliens' ship is hovering over Earth, observing the blue and green mass.
"Ey, boss, can I flip the switch? Let's get this job over with already."
A more grizzled alien regards his inferior with a sigh. "No, you Zeboz, we have contractual obligations, remember? Send up the people we had that old lady photograph. That stupid Foreign Life Preservation Act means we can't technically kill everyone."
The inferior suppresses a yawn and hits another button. "Alright, alright."
The two aliens peer into the containment chamber and watch as the chosen survivors begin to spawn in. But to their surprise, not a single human appears. Only thousands upon thousands of very confused cats. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | I snap another photo. "Beautiful, thanks!" I grin, waving the subject along and summoning the next with a practiced ease. Again, I take a picture. This goes on for the next 10 hours, waving and pressing, waving and pressing. Afterwards, I hop in my car and drive to the next city. This cycle continued for the allotted year, but tomorrow marks the end. I consider taking a picture of myself, but I am old and tired and perhaps that is why they chose me. I'm not tired of life, but I'm ready to rest. After all, I've saved everyone who matters. I would stand out like a sore thumb. I set the camera on my nightstand and go to sleep for the last time.
Soon after, the aliens' ship is hovering over Earth, observing the blue and green mass.
"Ey, boss, can I flip the switch? Let's get this job over with already."
A more grizzled alien regards his inferior with a sigh. "No, you Zeboz, we have contractual obligations, remember? Send up the people we had that old lady photograph. That stupid Foreign Life Preservation Act means we can't technically kill everyone."
The inferior suppresses a yawn and hits another button. "Alright, alright."
The two aliens peer into the containment chamber and watch as the chosen survivors begin to spawn in. But to their surprise, not a single human appears. Only thousands upon thousands of very confused cats. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | I snap another photo. "Beautiful, thanks!" I grin, waving the subject along and summoning the next with a practiced ease. Again, I take a picture. This goes on for the next 10 hours, waving and pressing, waving and pressing. Afterwards, I hop in my car and drive to the next city. This cycle continued for the allotted year, but tomorrow marks the end. I consider taking a picture of myself, but I am old and tired and perhaps that is why they chose me. I'm not tired of life, but I'm ready to rest. After all, I've saved everyone who matters. I would stand out like a sore thumb. I set the camera on my nightstand and go to sleep for the last time.
Soon after, the aliens' ship is hovering over Earth, observing the blue and green mass.
"Ey, boss, can I flip the switch? Let's get this job over with already."
A more grizzled alien regards his inferior with a sigh. "No, you Zeboz, we have contractual obligations, remember? Send up the people we had that old lady photograph. That stupid Foreign Life Preservation Act means we can't technically kill everyone."
The inferior suppresses a yawn and hits another button. "Alright, alright."
The two aliens peer into the containment chamber and watch as the chosen survivors begin to spawn in. But to their surprise, not a single human appears. Only thousands upon thousands of very confused cats. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| I snap another photo. "Beautiful, thanks!" I grin, waving the subject along and summoning the next with a practiced ease. Again, I take a picture. This goes on for the next 10 hours, waving and pressing, waving and pressing. Afterwards, I hop in my car and drive to the next city. This cycle continued for the allotted year, but tomorrow marks the end. I consider taking a picture of myself, but I am old and tired and perhaps that is why they chose me. I'm not tired of life, but I'm ready to rest. After all, I've saved everyone who matters. I would stand out like a sore thumb. I set the camera on my nightstand and go to sleep for the last time.
Soon after, the aliens' ship is hovering over Earth, observing the blue and green mass.
"Ey, boss, can I flip the switch? Let's get this job over with already."
A more grizzled alien regards his inferior with a sigh. "No, you Zeboz, we have contractual obligations, remember? Send up the people we had that old lady photograph. That stupid Foreign Life Preservation Act means we can't technically kill everyone."
The inferior suppresses a yawn and hits another button. "Alright, alright."
The two aliens peer into the containment chamber and watch as the chosen survivors begin to spawn in. But to their surprise, not a single human appears. Only thousands upon thousands of very confused cats. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | 362 Days
It's funny how quickly we forget. The aliens came and told us the rules:
1. The camera goes to the largest group of humans in 24 hours.
2. The camera has infinite storage and film.
3. Any person whose photo is on the camera gets to live.
4. You have 365 days.
Riots broke out, religions formed and crumbled, World War 3 almost started on 6 separate occasions, all in 24 hours. Eventually it was the combination of almost every space organization that got the camera. The plan was simple: Put it on a satellite. Then it was over, they said we were safe. It was amazing how quickly it didn't even matter, no one cared, no one nuked anyone. The mission was a success. Humanity had gone through hell and come out stronger, at least that's what we told ourselves. In the end we all knew that 90% of humanity had turned to savages when it looked like the world would end. That is why we tried to forgot, to listen to the "alternative facts." We had saved ourselves after all, we "earned" it.
I sit here now on my high horse, but I was no exception. I didn't even know how close we were until tonight. It really was no one's fault, I tried to brake but it was dark and rainy, he came out of nowhere. We collided and he was sent flying out of his car. Somehow I was almost uninjured so being the good Samaritan I thought I was I went to check on him. As soon as I got close I realized who it was and I started to go from shock to panic. It was the astronaut who took the photos that saved humanity.
It took me a few minutes of hyperventilating I realized he was still alive. I started a pathetic attempt at CPR. "Don't bother," he wheezed in between my verses of Stayin' Alive. When I realized I definitely wasn't helping he tried to lean close to my ear to tell me something. When I saw how weak he was I leaned toward him. "Whatever you do don't read the engraving", at this point I thought he was hallucinating, so I tried to make him comfortable until I saw the camera. It was the camera that had saved us all, then I suddenly remembered the date and corrected myself, the camera that *would* save us all in just 3 days. Then I saw the engraving, I'm ashamed to say that at this point I had completely forgotten about the astronaut and was trying to convince myself not to read the engraving.
"IF YOU ARE READING THIS,I AM SO SORRY. WE MADE A MISTAKE. WE THOUGHT INFINITE MEANT INVINCIBLE. ZERO GRAVITY SOMEHOW BROKE THE CAMERA AND NO MATTER HOW GOOD OUR SCIENTISTS WERE THERE WAS NO WAY WE COULD FIX SOMEHING INFINITE."
When I looked up and the astronaut saw my face his last expression was not the one of guilt or sadness I was expecting, but the smile of a man who knew he would not have to wait those 3 days, the smile of a man who no longer had to bear the burden that I now bear.
_______________________________________________________
Sorry if my formatting is garbage, on my phone.
This is my first time writing so please critique me
Thanks for reading
Edit: I suck at grammar #1 | Dear Children of this New World-
We, the former leaders of nations, have chosen you to lead the future of humanity.
We were given five pictures to save the lives those photographed. This alien race sought for us to fight over the pictures, while exploiting our land during the fight and leaving five to die off on a barren land.
Ray Kurzweil, a scientist at the prominent institution Massachusetts Institute of Technology, once said that, "Our technology, our machines, is part of our humanity. We created them to extend ourselves, and that is what is unique about human beings."
We ensured your future by taking a photograph of as many children and the top one-hundred scientific minds of our time in major wide areas. We took children to Moneta, Wyoming; Urucu, Brazil; Al Kaba, Chad; Xinjiang, China; and Telezhenka, Russia. We have stored the combined information of our species onto electronic and paper sources, on the back of this letter you will find maps to each site.
Our technology and machines were our humanity. Humanity does not take well to being challenged or conquered. We have assembled you, some 125,000-odd children to be what we could never be. To use the world's resources to promote peace between your small group, to foster the arts and technology, to accept all rather than divide, to create a truly international union.
We are using what little technology we have to combat this extinction threat, to ensure a future free for all this world's people. We are being taken to their planet, and we will use this world's combined explosive technologies to eliminate this unknown aggressor who came to this world to drive us to extinction. If we succeed, it will be an accomplishment to free not only all the world's people, but an accomplishment freeing all this universe's people.
In this brave new world of peace and prosperity, humanity must seek a leadership position in this union of planets. We have freed the universe from the auspices of a imperialistic totalitarian power, and we must continue to ensure this freedom to prevent future total powers.
Be the men and women we could never be, and use this world's technologies and our sacrifice to the best of everyone's needs.
Godspeed,
THE UNITED NATIONS SECURITY COUNCIL on behalf on all UN Member States:
* THE PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF CHINA- Acting President Mr. Guo Quan (郭泉)
* THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION- Acting Prime Minister Mr. Aleksey Aleksandrovich Zhuravlyov
* THE FRENCH REPUBLIC- Acting President Mr. Claude Bartolone
* THE UNITED KINGDOM- Acting Prime Minster Mrs. Valerie Carol Marian Vaz
* THE UNITED STATES- Acting President Mrs. Elisabeth DeVos |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember waking up, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw myself floating away from the comfortable bed I had been sleeping in only moments earlier. I looked up, but all I could see was a terribly bright light, the beam of it surrounding me. The light became brighter and brighter as I inched closer towards its source. I remember hearing a mechanical sound, faintly resembling the sound my garage door makes when I open it.
Moments later, I was lying on a floor, three strange creatures watching me from a distance. The creature in the brightest outfit walked towards and put out what I can only guess was his hand: "Greetings, earthling."
They had explained they had been watching for a long time and they believed our small earth could not sustain all its life for much longer. As a form of population control, they deemed it necessary to thin out the human race. They had chosen me to pick out the fated few that would live on and repopulate the earth. They gave me a camera and told me I had one year to photograph all those I wished to keep alive.
That happened a year ago. Today, I'm back up on their spaceship. These aliens think they could just suddenly decide the human race was "overpopulated". Oh boy, they'll never see this one coming!
"Hello again, Jack."
I couldn't resist to smile. "Hey there Qiznop."
"You look awfully happy for someone who will soon be responsible for the death of millions", Qiznop replied. His English was surpringly good for someone from a different planet.
This guy thought he knew so much about humans. He really thought we would give up so easily.
"Don't be so sure about it, buddy."
Qiznop looked at me. I couldn't quite understand these creatures' faces, but I'm pretty sure he looked surprised. Laughing maniacally I handed him a single photo. He stared at it for a solid minute before he opened his mouth: "what...how.."
I'll be honest with you. When I first got the camera, I was pretty scared of the consequences. It had felt like an enormous burden. At first I had thought of just photographing my family and friends. That seemed like the number one priority; after that I'd just photograph anyone I came across. But somehow that felt selfish, as if it was my duty to pick the "right" people, rather than those I would want to see alive. I wanted to photograph at least one man and women from every country to ensure genetic variety. I also wanted to pick these people based on merit, only those highly intelligent the physically strong should survive.
In the end, I had contemplated who to pick for so long that 9 months had already passed and I hadn't photographed a single person. The gnawing thought of the nearing deadline only made it harder to focus. That's when I had the genius thought that would ultimately save the human race. I went online and found one of those private space travel organizations, where they shoot you into orbit for a few hours. It cost me all my money and then some, but it was worth it. Five days before the deadline, I was shot into space. That's when I took my picture.
"This is just a picture of the earth!", Qiznop shouted.
"Yep."
"But...what!?"
"Everyone on earth is in that single picture. I guess you won't be killing anyone today after all."
Qiznop opened his mouth, but no words came out. You could see the disbelief in his eyes. He only started talking after what felt like an eternity.
"We... We needed the photographs so that we could identify the people you wanted to see alive. I told you this. How do you expect us to identify anyone from this? There's not a single recognizable face!"
"Oh."
"Besides, you do realize that you aren't in this picture either, right?"
"Oh.."
"We knew humans weren't very intelligent, but I never expected this!" Hesitantly, he picked up a device from a nearby table. "..sigh. Initiate Operation Cleanup."
And that's how I killed the entire human race.
| Dear Children of this New World-
We, the former leaders of nations, have chosen you to lead the future of humanity.
We were given five pictures to save the lives those photographed. This alien race sought for us to fight over the pictures, while exploiting our land during the fight and leaving five to die off on a barren land.
Ray Kurzweil, a scientist at the prominent institution Massachusetts Institute of Technology, once said that, "Our technology, our machines, is part of our humanity. We created them to extend ourselves, and that is what is unique about human beings."
We ensured your future by taking a photograph of as many children and the top one-hundred scientific minds of our time in major wide areas. We took children to Moneta, Wyoming; Urucu, Brazil; Al Kaba, Chad; Xinjiang, China; and Telezhenka, Russia. We have stored the combined information of our species onto electronic and paper sources, on the back of this letter you will find maps to each site.
Our technology and machines were our humanity. Humanity does not take well to being challenged or conquered. We have assembled you, some 125,000-odd children to be what we could never be. To use the world's resources to promote peace between your small group, to foster the arts and technology, to accept all rather than divide, to create a truly international union.
We are using what little technology we have to combat this extinction threat, to ensure a future free for all this world's people. We are being taken to their planet, and we will use this world's combined explosive technologies to eliminate this unknown aggressor who came to this world to drive us to extinction. If we succeed, it will be an accomplishment to free not only all the world's people, but an accomplishment freeing all this universe's people.
In this brave new world of peace and prosperity, humanity must seek a leadership position in this union of planets. We have freed the universe from the auspices of a imperialistic totalitarian power, and we must continue to ensure this freedom to prevent future total powers.
Be the men and women we could never be, and use this world's technologies and our sacrifice to the best of everyone's needs.
Godspeed,
THE UNITED NATIONS SECURITY COUNCIL on behalf on all UN Member States:
* THE PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF CHINA- Acting President Mr. Guo Quan (郭泉)
* THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION- Acting Prime Minister Mr. Aleksey Aleksandrovich Zhuravlyov
* THE FRENCH REPUBLIC- Acting President Mr. Claude Bartolone
* THE UNITED KINGDOM- Acting Prime Minster Mrs. Valerie Carol Marian Vaz
* THE UNITED STATES- Acting President Mrs. Elisabeth DeVos |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | Dear Children of this New World-
We, the former leaders of nations, have chosen you to lead the future of humanity.
We were given five pictures to save the lives those photographed. This alien race sought for us to fight over the pictures, while exploiting our land during the fight and leaving five to die off on a barren land.
Ray Kurzweil, a scientist at the prominent institution Massachusetts Institute of Technology, once said that, "Our technology, our machines, is part of our humanity. We created them to extend ourselves, and that is what is unique about human beings."
We ensured your future by taking a photograph of as many children and the top one-hundred scientific minds of our time in major wide areas. We took children to Moneta, Wyoming; Urucu, Brazil; Al Kaba, Chad; Xinjiang, China; and Telezhenka, Russia. We have stored the combined information of our species onto electronic and paper sources, on the back of this letter you will find maps to each site.
Our technology and machines were our humanity. Humanity does not take well to being challenged or conquered. We have assembled you, some 125,000-odd children to be what we could never be. To use the world's resources to promote peace between your small group, to foster the arts and technology, to accept all rather than divide, to create a truly international union.
We are using what little technology we have to combat this extinction threat, to ensure a future free for all this world's people. We are being taken to their planet, and we will use this world's combined explosive technologies to eliminate this unknown aggressor who came to this world to drive us to extinction. If we succeed, it will be an accomplishment to free not only all the world's people, but an accomplishment freeing all this universe's people.
In this brave new world of peace and prosperity, humanity must seek a leadership position in this union of planets. We have freed the universe from the auspices of a imperialistic totalitarian power, and we must continue to ensure this freedom to prevent future total powers.
Be the men and women we could never be, and use this world's technologies and our sacrifice to the best of everyone's needs.
Godspeed,
THE UNITED NATIONS SECURITY COUNCIL on behalf on all UN Member States:
* THE PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF CHINA- Acting President Mr. Guo Quan (郭泉)
* THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION- Acting Prime Minister Mr. Aleksey Aleksandrovich Zhuravlyov
* THE FRENCH REPUBLIC- Acting President Mr. Claude Bartolone
* THE UNITED KINGDOM- Acting Prime Minster Mrs. Valerie Carol Marian Vaz
* THE UNITED STATES- Acting President Mrs. Elisabeth DeVos |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | Dear Children of this New World-
We, the former leaders of nations, have chosen you to lead the future of humanity.
We were given five pictures to save the lives those photographed. This alien race sought for us to fight over the pictures, while exploiting our land during the fight and leaving five to die off on a barren land.
Ray Kurzweil, a scientist at the prominent institution Massachusetts Institute of Technology, once said that, "Our technology, our machines, is part of our humanity. We created them to extend ourselves, and that is what is unique about human beings."
We ensured your future by taking a photograph of as many children and the top one-hundred scientific minds of our time in major wide areas. We took children to Moneta, Wyoming; Urucu, Brazil; Al Kaba, Chad; Xinjiang, China; and Telezhenka, Russia. We have stored the combined information of our species onto electronic and paper sources, on the back of this letter you will find maps to each site.
Our technology and machines were our humanity. Humanity does not take well to being challenged or conquered. We have assembled you, some 125,000-odd children to be what we could never be. To use the world's resources to promote peace between your small group, to foster the arts and technology, to accept all rather than divide, to create a truly international union.
We are using what little technology we have to combat this extinction threat, to ensure a future free for all this world's people. We are being taken to their planet, and we will use this world's combined explosive technologies to eliminate this unknown aggressor who came to this world to drive us to extinction. If we succeed, it will be an accomplishment to free not only all the world's people, but an accomplishment freeing all this universe's people.
In this brave new world of peace and prosperity, humanity must seek a leadership position in this union of planets. We have freed the universe from the auspices of a imperialistic totalitarian power, and we must continue to ensure this freedom to prevent future total powers.
Be the men and women we could never be, and use this world's technologies and our sacrifice to the best of everyone's needs.
Godspeed,
THE UNITED NATIONS SECURITY COUNCIL on behalf on all UN Member States:
* THE PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF CHINA- Acting President Mr. Guo Quan (郭泉)
* THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION- Acting Prime Minister Mr. Aleksey Aleksandrovich Zhuravlyov
* THE FRENCH REPUBLIC- Acting President Mr. Claude Bartolone
* THE UNITED KINGDOM- Acting Prime Minster Mrs. Valerie Carol Marian Vaz
* THE UNITED STATES- Acting President Mrs. Elisabeth DeVos |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | Dear Children of this New World-
We, the former leaders of nations, have chosen you to lead the future of humanity.
We were given five pictures to save the lives those photographed. This alien race sought for us to fight over the pictures, while exploiting our land during the fight and leaving five to die off on a barren land.
Ray Kurzweil, a scientist at the prominent institution Massachusetts Institute of Technology, once said that, "Our technology, our machines, is part of our humanity. We created them to extend ourselves, and that is what is unique about human beings."
We ensured your future by taking a photograph of as many children and the top one-hundred scientific minds of our time in major wide areas. We took children to Moneta, Wyoming; Urucu, Brazil; Al Kaba, Chad; Xinjiang, China; and Telezhenka, Russia. We have stored the combined information of our species onto electronic and paper sources, on the back of this letter you will find maps to each site.
Our technology and machines were our humanity. Humanity does not take well to being challenged or conquered. We have assembled you, some 125,000-odd children to be what we could never be. To use the world's resources to promote peace between your small group, to foster the arts and technology, to accept all rather than divide, to create a truly international union.
We are using what little technology we have to combat this extinction threat, to ensure a future free for all this world's people. We are being taken to their planet, and we will use this world's combined explosive technologies to eliminate this unknown aggressor who came to this world to drive us to extinction. If we succeed, it will be an accomplishment to free not only all the world's people, but an accomplishment freeing all this universe's people.
In this brave new world of peace and prosperity, humanity must seek a leadership position in this union of planets. We have freed the universe from the auspices of a imperialistic totalitarian power, and we must continue to ensure this freedom to prevent future total powers.
Be the men and women we could never be, and use this world's technologies and our sacrifice to the best of everyone's needs.
Godspeed,
THE UNITED NATIONS SECURITY COUNCIL on behalf on all UN Member States:
* THE PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF CHINA- Acting President Mr. Guo Quan (郭泉)
* THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION- Acting Prime Minister Mr. Aleksey Aleksandrovich Zhuravlyov
* THE FRENCH REPUBLIC- Acting President Mr. Claude Bartolone
* THE UNITED KINGDOM- Acting Prime Minster Mrs. Valerie Carol Marian Vaz
* THE UNITED STATES- Acting President Mrs. Elisabeth DeVos |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | 362 Days
It's funny how quickly we forget. The aliens came and told us the rules:
1. The camera goes to the largest group of humans in 24 hours.
2. The camera has infinite storage and film.
3. Any person whose photo is on the camera gets to live.
4. You have 365 days.
Riots broke out, religions formed and crumbled, World War 3 almost started on 6 separate occasions, all in 24 hours. Eventually it was the combination of almost every space organization that got the camera. The plan was simple: Put it on a satellite. Then it was over, they said we were safe. It was amazing how quickly it didn't even matter, no one cared, no one nuked anyone. The mission was a success. Humanity had gone through hell and come out stronger, at least that's what we told ourselves. In the end we all knew that 90% of humanity had turned to savages when it looked like the world would end. That is why we tried to forgot, to listen to the "alternative facts." We had saved ourselves after all, we "earned" it.
I sit here now on my high horse, but I was no exception. I didn't even know how close we were until tonight. It really was no one's fault, I tried to brake but it was dark and rainy, he came out of nowhere. We collided and he was sent flying out of his car. Somehow I was almost uninjured so being the good Samaritan I thought I was I went to check on him. As soon as I got close I realized who it was and I started to go from shock to panic. It was the astronaut who took the photos that saved humanity.
It took me a few minutes of hyperventilating I realized he was still alive. I started a pathetic attempt at CPR. "Don't bother," he wheezed in between my verses of Stayin' Alive. When I realized I definitely wasn't helping he tried to lean close to my ear to tell me something. When I saw how weak he was I leaned toward him. "Whatever you do don't read the engraving", at this point I thought he was hallucinating, so I tried to make him comfortable until I saw the camera. It was the camera that had saved us all, then I suddenly remembered the date and corrected myself, the camera that *would* save us all in just 3 days. Then I saw the engraving, I'm ashamed to say that at this point I had completely forgotten about the astronaut and was trying to convince myself not to read the engraving.
"IF YOU ARE READING THIS,I AM SO SORRY. WE MADE A MISTAKE. WE THOUGHT INFINITE MEANT INVINCIBLE. ZERO GRAVITY SOMEHOW BROKE THE CAMERA AND NO MATTER HOW GOOD OUR SCIENTISTS WERE THERE WAS NO WAY WE COULD FIX SOMEHING INFINITE."
When I looked up and the astronaut saw my face his last expression was not the one of guilt or sadness I was expecting, but the smile of a man who knew he would not have to wait those 3 days, the smile of a man who no longer had to bear the burden that I now bear.
_______________________________________________________
Sorry if my formatting is garbage, on my phone.
This is my first time writing so please critique me
Thanks for reading
Edit: I suck at grammar #1 | The grey big headed creature hands a bulky camera to me, it's cold. he says to me the universe as we know it will end in 365 days and that many civilations are building arks for various species and that those whos picture is taken with this device will be saved. I stand up nervously shaking, I studder and say " say cheese", the camera clicks and a photo prints out. The alien figure grabs it and smiles with his odd mouth and says "your species is saved, you've passed" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember waking up, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw myself floating away from the comfortable bed I had been sleeping in only moments earlier. I looked up, but all I could see was a terribly bright light, the beam of it surrounding me. The light became brighter and brighter as I inched closer towards its source. I remember hearing a mechanical sound, faintly resembling the sound my garage door makes when I open it.
Moments later, I was lying on a floor, three strange creatures watching me from a distance. The creature in the brightest outfit walked towards and put out what I can only guess was his hand: "Greetings, earthling."
They had explained they had been watching for a long time and they believed our small earth could not sustain all its life for much longer. As a form of population control, they deemed it necessary to thin out the human race. They had chosen me to pick out the fated few that would live on and repopulate the earth. They gave me a camera and told me I had one year to photograph all those I wished to keep alive.
That happened a year ago. Today, I'm back up on their spaceship. These aliens think they could just suddenly decide the human race was "overpopulated". Oh boy, they'll never see this one coming!
"Hello again, Jack."
I couldn't resist to smile. "Hey there Qiznop."
"You look awfully happy for someone who will soon be responsible for the death of millions", Qiznop replied. His English was surpringly good for someone from a different planet.
This guy thought he knew so much about humans. He really thought we would give up so easily.
"Don't be so sure about it, buddy."
Qiznop looked at me. I couldn't quite understand these creatures' faces, but I'm pretty sure he looked surprised. Laughing maniacally I handed him a single photo. He stared at it for a solid minute before he opened his mouth: "what...how.."
I'll be honest with you. When I first got the camera, I was pretty scared of the consequences. It had felt like an enormous burden. At first I had thought of just photographing my family and friends. That seemed like the number one priority; after that I'd just photograph anyone I came across. But somehow that felt selfish, as if it was my duty to pick the "right" people, rather than those I would want to see alive. I wanted to photograph at least one man and women from every country to ensure genetic variety. I also wanted to pick these people based on merit, only those highly intelligent the physically strong should survive.
In the end, I had contemplated who to pick for so long that 9 months had already passed and I hadn't photographed a single person. The gnawing thought of the nearing deadline only made it harder to focus. That's when I had the genius thought that would ultimately save the human race. I went online and found one of those private space travel organizations, where they shoot you into orbit for a few hours. It cost me all my money and then some, but it was worth it. Five days before the deadline, I was shot into space. That's when I took my picture.
"This is just a picture of the earth!", Qiznop shouted.
"Yep."
"But...what!?"
"Everyone on earth is in that single picture. I guess you won't be killing anyone today after all."
Qiznop opened his mouth, but no words came out. You could see the disbelief in his eyes. He only started talking after what felt like an eternity.
"We... We needed the photographs so that we could identify the people you wanted to see alive. I told you this. How do you expect us to identify anyone from this? There's not a single recognizable face!"
"Oh."
"Besides, you do realize that you aren't in this picture either, right?"
"Oh.."
"We knew humans weren't very intelligent, but I never expected this!" Hesitantly, he picked up a device from a nearby table. "..sigh. Initiate Operation Cleanup."
And that's how I killed the entire human race.
| The grey big headed creature hands a bulky camera to me, it's cold. he says to me the universe as we know it will end in 365 days and that many civilations are building arks for various species and that those whos picture is taken with this device will be saved. I stand up nervously shaking, I studder and say " say cheese", the camera clicks and a photo prints out. The alien figure grabs it and smiles with his odd mouth and says "your species is saved, you've passed" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | The grey big headed creature hands a bulky camera to me, it's cold. he says to me the universe as we know it will end in 365 days and that many civilations are building arks for various species and that those whos picture is taken with this device will be saved. I stand up nervously shaking, I studder and say " say cheese", the camera clicks and a photo prints out. The alien figure grabs it and smiles with his odd mouth and says "your species is saved, you've passed" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | The grey big headed creature hands a bulky camera to me, it's cold. he says to me the universe as we know it will end in 365 days and that many civilations are building arks for various species and that those whos picture is taken with this device will be saved. I stand up nervously shaking, I studder and say " say cheese", the camera clicks and a photo prints out. The alien figure grabs it and smiles with his odd mouth and says "your species is saved, you've passed" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | The grey big headed creature hands a bulky camera to me, it's cold. he says to me the universe as we know it will end in 365 days and that many civilations are building arks for various species and that those whos picture is taken with this device will be saved. I stand up nervously shaking, I studder and say " say cheese", the camera clicks and a photo prints out. The alien figure grabs it and smiles with his odd mouth and says "your species is saved, you've passed" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | 362 Days
It's funny how quickly we forget. The aliens came and told us the rules:
1. The camera goes to the largest group of humans in 24 hours.
2. The camera has infinite storage and film.
3. Any person whose photo is on the camera gets to live.
4. You have 365 days.
Riots broke out, religions formed and crumbled, World War 3 almost started on 6 separate occasions, all in 24 hours. Eventually it was the combination of almost every space organization that got the camera. The plan was simple: Put it on a satellite. Then it was over, they said we were safe. It was amazing how quickly it didn't even matter, no one cared, no one nuked anyone. The mission was a success. Humanity had gone through hell and come out stronger, at least that's what we told ourselves. In the end we all knew that 90% of humanity had turned to savages when it looked like the world would end. That is why we tried to forgot, to listen to the "alternative facts." We had saved ourselves after all, we "earned" it.
I sit here now on my high horse, but I was no exception. I didn't even know how close we were until tonight. It really was no one's fault, I tried to brake but it was dark and rainy, he came out of nowhere. We collided and he was sent flying out of his car. Somehow I was almost uninjured so being the good Samaritan I thought I was I went to check on him. As soon as I got close I realized who it was and I started to go from shock to panic. It was the astronaut who took the photos that saved humanity.
It took me a few minutes of hyperventilating I realized he was still alive. I started a pathetic attempt at CPR. "Don't bother," he wheezed in between my verses of Stayin' Alive. When I realized I definitely wasn't helping he tried to lean close to my ear to tell me something. When I saw how weak he was I leaned toward him. "Whatever you do don't read the engraving", at this point I thought he was hallucinating, so I tried to make him comfortable until I saw the camera. It was the camera that had saved us all, then I suddenly remembered the date and corrected myself, the camera that *would* save us all in just 3 days. Then I saw the engraving, I'm ashamed to say that at this point I had completely forgotten about the astronaut and was trying to convince myself not to read the engraving.
"IF YOU ARE READING THIS,I AM SO SORRY. WE MADE A MISTAKE. WE THOUGHT INFINITE MEANT INVINCIBLE. ZERO GRAVITY SOMEHOW BROKE THE CAMERA AND NO MATTER HOW GOOD OUR SCIENTISTS WERE THERE WAS NO WAY WE COULD FIX SOMEHING INFINITE."
When I looked up and the astronaut saw my face his last expression was not the one of guilt or sadness I was expecting, but the smile of a man who knew he would not have to wait those 3 days, the smile of a man who no longer had to bear the burden that I now bear.
_______________________________________________________
Sorry if my formatting is garbage, on my phone.
This is my first time writing so please critique me
Thanks for reading
Edit: I suck at grammar #1 | Mark 9 panoscan camtech drops a full 360-degree view in three nanoseconds. Not bad for ¥9,210,480¥ or so. They spared no expense.
It was the only electronic device allowed at the wedding. In my old timey photographer gear, I was invisible. Big society event, all the top funders of the resistance and people so used to being untouchable that they could not imagine their street cred agencies would have leaks.
The resulting images I took would be immediately bounced into some indo or ruski hacker's VR helmet. They'd verify the biometric findings and relay it to the Ximon Collective, the globally dispersed botnet rogue A.I.
I received new instructions in my HUD. My job was to wait until Bicençio left the room. Snap a photo. The 434 Protocol had been approved for engagement.
434 meant the black virus augments would be activating. Everyone targeted would become ghosts. The black virus systematically deletes all external records. Everyone with the mandatory interface implant has their memories scrambled, physical reminders of a person become illegible scribbles. Targets are just erased from existence in polite society. Their husks are usually injected with memory wipe schizophrenia and left to fester in a gutter as a trophy.
I'd never seen it done to a crowd this size or importance. Sure, I've seen a stadium or two drop to aneurysm or stroke. A few rage outbreaks that were worth it for the instant insurrection. But that was mostly in sleepy backwater locales, merc work for egomaniacal podunk dictators and the like.
Problem 1. I lost my hackteam as soon as the order came in. My feed was being patched directly to somewhere else. I might be compromised. This mission was supposed to be pure localized intel gathering.
Problem 2. Why would Ximon not want Bicençio to witness this? Bicençio had no implants, no trace, often sent duplicates and decoys. A room full of zis contacts disappearing from the grid when they're locked behind 7 faradays and nine luddite-fields would be fine gloating.
Problem 3. I didn't expect them to have actual plants and trees carted in. Finding a good angle would be hard.
Bicençio excuses zimself from the table.
A flood of data overwhelms my cranium, like the nightly compensator upgrade failed. Good agent to the last, I pull the trigger on the camera. Everyone in the room immediately melts like salt-seasoned slugs. That was not supposed to happen. All my outgoing feeds had been suspended.
Bicençio enters the room again. Swarms of black nanites exit his sleeves, reforming the piles of goo that were the crowd back into people.
I'm busy being keeled over on the floor. Everything is being sucked out of my head.
My dog. I can't remember my dog's name. Why can't I?
Because Ximon wiped out my housing development due to a rounding error, vaporizing my family underneath an instant megafactory. It all came back to me, so why was I so willing a servant?
Because if I put in a year of service, I'd get any background I would want. All the pain erased, all the idle richness I can handle.
There's a lot of blood and grease coming out of every hole in my head. I can't leave the fetal position. I throw up all over myself. This was not the glamour the recruitment board promised.
Bicençio notices me. He steps close. He thanks me for my service. I've always been his best double agent. Ximon would now handle the heavy lifting of erasing his freedom fighters from the grid. Wouldn't expect them later on since all these quick-bake cloneslugs provided genetic material evidence of their relocation to skid row. They couldn't handle the black virus camera pulse but the nanites were doing a fine job of basic reconstruction. The people were supposed to be post-camera scrambled so it didn't matter much.
It's a damn shame I'm still useful to the cause. The migraine hits me again, data again being removed from me and replaced with default bio-programming. But don't worry, the people I photographed will get to live. Some day they may be able to let me stay me, too. Just one more year of service.
|
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember waking up, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw myself floating away from the comfortable bed I had been sleeping in only moments earlier. I looked up, but all I could see was a terribly bright light, the beam of it surrounding me. The light became brighter and brighter as I inched closer towards its source. I remember hearing a mechanical sound, faintly resembling the sound my garage door makes when I open it.
Moments later, I was lying on a floor, three strange creatures watching me from a distance. The creature in the brightest outfit walked towards and put out what I can only guess was his hand: "Greetings, earthling."
They had explained they had been watching for a long time and they believed our small earth could not sustain all its life for much longer. As a form of population control, they deemed it necessary to thin out the human race. They had chosen me to pick out the fated few that would live on and repopulate the earth. They gave me a camera and told me I had one year to photograph all those I wished to keep alive.
That happened a year ago. Today, I'm back up on their spaceship. These aliens think they could just suddenly decide the human race was "overpopulated". Oh boy, they'll never see this one coming!
"Hello again, Jack."
I couldn't resist to smile. "Hey there Qiznop."
"You look awfully happy for someone who will soon be responsible for the death of millions", Qiznop replied. His English was surpringly good for someone from a different planet.
This guy thought he knew so much about humans. He really thought we would give up so easily.
"Don't be so sure about it, buddy."
Qiznop looked at me. I couldn't quite understand these creatures' faces, but I'm pretty sure he looked surprised. Laughing maniacally I handed him a single photo. He stared at it for a solid minute before he opened his mouth: "what...how.."
I'll be honest with you. When I first got the camera, I was pretty scared of the consequences. It had felt like an enormous burden. At first I had thought of just photographing my family and friends. That seemed like the number one priority; after that I'd just photograph anyone I came across. But somehow that felt selfish, as if it was my duty to pick the "right" people, rather than those I would want to see alive. I wanted to photograph at least one man and women from every country to ensure genetic variety. I also wanted to pick these people based on merit, only those highly intelligent the physically strong should survive.
In the end, I had contemplated who to pick for so long that 9 months had already passed and I hadn't photographed a single person. The gnawing thought of the nearing deadline only made it harder to focus. That's when I had the genius thought that would ultimately save the human race. I went online and found one of those private space travel organizations, where they shoot you into orbit for a few hours. It cost me all my money and then some, but it was worth it. Five days before the deadline, I was shot into space. That's when I took my picture.
"This is just a picture of the earth!", Qiznop shouted.
"Yep."
"But...what!?"
"Everyone on earth is in that single picture. I guess you won't be killing anyone today after all."
Qiznop opened his mouth, but no words came out. You could see the disbelief in his eyes. He only started talking after what felt like an eternity.
"We... We needed the photographs so that we could identify the people you wanted to see alive. I told you this. How do you expect us to identify anyone from this? There's not a single recognizable face!"
"Oh."
"Besides, you do realize that you aren't in this picture either, right?"
"Oh.."
"We knew humans weren't very intelligent, but I never expected this!" Hesitantly, he picked up a device from a nearby table. "..sigh. Initiate Operation Cleanup."
And that's how I killed the entire human race.
| Mark 9 panoscan camtech drops a full 360-degree view in three nanoseconds. Not bad for ¥9,210,480¥ or so. They spared no expense.
It was the only electronic device allowed at the wedding. In my old timey photographer gear, I was invisible. Big society event, all the top funders of the resistance and people so used to being untouchable that they could not imagine their street cred agencies would have leaks.
The resulting images I took would be immediately bounced into some indo or ruski hacker's VR helmet. They'd verify the biometric findings and relay it to the Ximon Collective, the globally dispersed botnet rogue A.I.
I received new instructions in my HUD. My job was to wait until Bicençio left the room. Snap a photo. The 434 Protocol had been approved for engagement.
434 meant the black virus augments would be activating. Everyone targeted would become ghosts. The black virus systematically deletes all external records. Everyone with the mandatory interface implant has their memories scrambled, physical reminders of a person become illegible scribbles. Targets are just erased from existence in polite society. Their husks are usually injected with memory wipe schizophrenia and left to fester in a gutter as a trophy.
I'd never seen it done to a crowd this size or importance. Sure, I've seen a stadium or two drop to aneurysm or stroke. A few rage outbreaks that were worth it for the instant insurrection. But that was mostly in sleepy backwater locales, merc work for egomaniacal podunk dictators and the like.
Problem 1. I lost my hackteam as soon as the order came in. My feed was being patched directly to somewhere else. I might be compromised. This mission was supposed to be pure localized intel gathering.
Problem 2. Why would Ximon not want Bicençio to witness this? Bicençio had no implants, no trace, often sent duplicates and decoys. A room full of zis contacts disappearing from the grid when they're locked behind 7 faradays and nine luddite-fields would be fine gloating.
Problem 3. I didn't expect them to have actual plants and trees carted in. Finding a good angle would be hard.
Bicençio excuses zimself from the table.
A flood of data overwhelms my cranium, like the nightly compensator upgrade failed. Good agent to the last, I pull the trigger on the camera. Everyone in the room immediately melts like salt-seasoned slugs. That was not supposed to happen. All my outgoing feeds had been suspended.
Bicençio enters the room again. Swarms of black nanites exit his sleeves, reforming the piles of goo that were the crowd back into people.
I'm busy being keeled over on the floor. Everything is being sucked out of my head.
My dog. I can't remember my dog's name. Why can't I?
Because Ximon wiped out my housing development due to a rounding error, vaporizing my family underneath an instant megafactory. It all came back to me, so why was I so willing a servant?
Because if I put in a year of service, I'd get any background I would want. All the pain erased, all the idle richness I can handle.
There's a lot of blood and grease coming out of every hole in my head. I can't leave the fetal position. I throw up all over myself. This was not the glamour the recruitment board promised.
Bicençio notices me. He steps close. He thanks me for my service. I've always been his best double agent. Ximon would now handle the heavy lifting of erasing his freedom fighters from the grid. Wouldn't expect them later on since all these quick-bake cloneslugs provided genetic material evidence of their relocation to skid row. They couldn't handle the black virus camera pulse but the nanites were doing a fine job of basic reconstruction. The people were supposed to be post-camera scrambled so it didn't matter much.
It's a damn shame I'm still useful to the cause. The migraine hits me again, data again being removed from me and replaced with default bio-programming. But don't worry, the people I photographed will get to live. Some day they may be able to let me stay me, too. Just one more year of service.
|
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | Mark 9 panoscan camtech drops a full 360-degree view in three nanoseconds. Not bad for ¥9,210,480¥ or so. They spared no expense.
It was the only electronic device allowed at the wedding. In my old timey photographer gear, I was invisible. Big society event, all the top funders of the resistance and people so used to being untouchable that they could not imagine their street cred agencies would have leaks.
The resulting images I took would be immediately bounced into some indo or ruski hacker's VR helmet. They'd verify the biometric findings and relay it to the Ximon Collective, the globally dispersed botnet rogue A.I.
I received new instructions in my HUD. My job was to wait until Bicençio left the room. Snap a photo. The 434 Protocol had been approved for engagement.
434 meant the black virus augments would be activating. Everyone targeted would become ghosts. The black virus systematically deletes all external records. Everyone with the mandatory interface implant has their memories scrambled, physical reminders of a person become illegible scribbles. Targets are just erased from existence in polite society. Their husks are usually injected with memory wipe schizophrenia and left to fester in a gutter as a trophy.
I'd never seen it done to a crowd this size or importance. Sure, I've seen a stadium or two drop to aneurysm or stroke. A few rage outbreaks that were worth it for the instant insurrection. But that was mostly in sleepy backwater locales, merc work for egomaniacal podunk dictators and the like.
Problem 1. I lost my hackteam as soon as the order came in. My feed was being patched directly to somewhere else. I might be compromised. This mission was supposed to be pure localized intel gathering.
Problem 2. Why would Ximon not want Bicençio to witness this? Bicençio had no implants, no trace, often sent duplicates and decoys. A room full of zis contacts disappearing from the grid when they're locked behind 7 faradays and nine luddite-fields would be fine gloating.
Problem 3. I didn't expect them to have actual plants and trees carted in. Finding a good angle would be hard.
Bicençio excuses zimself from the table.
A flood of data overwhelms my cranium, like the nightly compensator upgrade failed. Good agent to the last, I pull the trigger on the camera. Everyone in the room immediately melts like salt-seasoned slugs. That was not supposed to happen. All my outgoing feeds had been suspended.
Bicençio enters the room again. Swarms of black nanites exit his sleeves, reforming the piles of goo that were the crowd back into people.
I'm busy being keeled over on the floor. Everything is being sucked out of my head.
My dog. I can't remember my dog's name. Why can't I?
Because Ximon wiped out my housing development due to a rounding error, vaporizing my family underneath an instant megafactory. It all came back to me, so why was I so willing a servant?
Because if I put in a year of service, I'd get any background I would want. All the pain erased, all the idle richness I can handle.
There's a lot of blood and grease coming out of every hole in my head. I can't leave the fetal position. I throw up all over myself. This was not the glamour the recruitment board promised.
Bicençio notices me. He steps close. He thanks me for my service. I've always been his best double agent. Ximon would now handle the heavy lifting of erasing his freedom fighters from the grid. Wouldn't expect them later on since all these quick-bake cloneslugs provided genetic material evidence of their relocation to skid row. They couldn't handle the black virus camera pulse but the nanites were doing a fine job of basic reconstruction. The people were supposed to be post-camera scrambled so it didn't matter much.
It's a damn shame I'm still useful to the cause. The migraine hits me again, data again being removed from me and replaced with default bio-programming. But don't worry, the people I photographed will get to live. Some day they may be able to let me stay me, too. Just one more year of service.
|
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | Mark 9 panoscan camtech drops a full 360-degree view in three nanoseconds. Not bad for ¥9,210,480¥ or so. They spared no expense.
It was the only electronic device allowed at the wedding. In my old timey photographer gear, I was invisible. Big society event, all the top funders of the resistance and people so used to being untouchable that they could not imagine their street cred agencies would have leaks.
The resulting images I took would be immediately bounced into some indo or ruski hacker's VR helmet. They'd verify the biometric findings and relay it to the Ximon Collective, the globally dispersed botnet rogue A.I.
I received new instructions in my HUD. My job was to wait until Bicençio left the room. Snap a photo. The 434 Protocol had been approved for engagement.
434 meant the black virus augments would be activating. Everyone targeted would become ghosts. The black virus systematically deletes all external records. Everyone with the mandatory interface implant has their memories scrambled, physical reminders of a person become illegible scribbles. Targets are just erased from existence in polite society. Their husks are usually injected with memory wipe schizophrenia and left to fester in a gutter as a trophy.
I'd never seen it done to a crowd this size or importance. Sure, I've seen a stadium or two drop to aneurysm or stroke. A few rage outbreaks that were worth it for the instant insurrection. But that was mostly in sleepy backwater locales, merc work for egomaniacal podunk dictators and the like.
Problem 1. I lost my hackteam as soon as the order came in. My feed was being patched directly to somewhere else. I might be compromised. This mission was supposed to be pure localized intel gathering.
Problem 2. Why would Ximon not want Bicençio to witness this? Bicençio had no implants, no trace, often sent duplicates and decoys. A room full of zis contacts disappearing from the grid when they're locked behind 7 faradays and nine luddite-fields would be fine gloating.
Problem 3. I didn't expect them to have actual plants and trees carted in. Finding a good angle would be hard.
Bicençio excuses zimself from the table.
A flood of data overwhelms my cranium, like the nightly compensator upgrade failed. Good agent to the last, I pull the trigger on the camera. Everyone in the room immediately melts like salt-seasoned slugs. That was not supposed to happen. All my outgoing feeds had been suspended.
Bicençio enters the room again. Swarms of black nanites exit his sleeves, reforming the piles of goo that were the crowd back into people.
I'm busy being keeled over on the floor. Everything is being sucked out of my head.
My dog. I can't remember my dog's name. Why can't I?
Because Ximon wiped out my housing development due to a rounding error, vaporizing my family underneath an instant megafactory. It all came back to me, so why was I so willing a servant?
Because if I put in a year of service, I'd get any background I would want. All the pain erased, all the idle richness I can handle.
There's a lot of blood and grease coming out of every hole in my head. I can't leave the fetal position. I throw up all over myself. This was not the glamour the recruitment board promised.
Bicençio notices me. He steps close. He thanks me for my service. I've always been his best double agent. Ximon would now handle the heavy lifting of erasing his freedom fighters from the grid. Wouldn't expect them later on since all these quick-bake cloneslugs provided genetic material evidence of their relocation to skid row. They couldn't handle the black virus camera pulse but the nanites were doing a fine job of basic reconstruction. The people were supposed to be post-camera scrambled so it didn't matter much.
It's a damn shame I'm still useful to the cause. The migraine hits me again, data again being removed from me and replaced with default bio-programming. But don't worry, the people I photographed will get to live. Some day they may be able to let me stay me, too. Just one more year of service.
|
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | Mark 9 panoscan camtech drops a full 360-degree view in three nanoseconds. Not bad for ¥9,210,480¥ or so. They spared no expense.
It was the only electronic device allowed at the wedding. In my old timey photographer gear, I was invisible. Big society event, all the top funders of the resistance and people so used to being untouchable that they could not imagine their street cred agencies would have leaks.
The resulting images I took would be immediately bounced into some indo or ruski hacker's VR helmet. They'd verify the biometric findings and relay it to the Ximon Collective, the globally dispersed botnet rogue A.I.
I received new instructions in my HUD. My job was to wait until Bicençio left the room. Snap a photo. The 434 Protocol had been approved for engagement.
434 meant the black virus augments would be activating. Everyone targeted would become ghosts. The black virus systematically deletes all external records. Everyone with the mandatory interface implant has their memories scrambled, physical reminders of a person become illegible scribbles. Targets are just erased from existence in polite society. Their husks are usually injected with memory wipe schizophrenia and left to fester in a gutter as a trophy.
I'd never seen it done to a crowd this size or importance. Sure, I've seen a stadium or two drop to aneurysm or stroke. A few rage outbreaks that were worth it for the instant insurrection. But that was mostly in sleepy backwater locales, merc work for egomaniacal podunk dictators and the like.
Problem 1. I lost my hackteam as soon as the order came in. My feed was being patched directly to somewhere else. I might be compromised. This mission was supposed to be pure localized intel gathering.
Problem 2. Why would Ximon not want Bicençio to witness this? Bicençio had no implants, no trace, often sent duplicates and decoys. A room full of zis contacts disappearing from the grid when they're locked behind 7 faradays and nine luddite-fields would be fine gloating.
Problem 3. I didn't expect them to have actual plants and trees carted in. Finding a good angle would be hard.
Bicençio excuses zimself from the table.
A flood of data overwhelms my cranium, like the nightly compensator upgrade failed. Good agent to the last, I pull the trigger on the camera. Everyone in the room immediately melts like salt-seasoned slugs. That was not supposed to happen. All my outgoing feeds had been suspended.
Bicençio enters the room again. Swarms of black nanites exit his sleeves, reforming the piles of goo that were the crowd back into people.
I'm busy being keeled over on the floor. Everything is being sucked out of my head.
My dog. I can't remember my dog's name. Why can't I?
Because Ximon wiped out my housing development due to a rounding error, vaporizing my family underneath an instant megafactory. It all came back to me, so why was I so willing a servant?
Because if I put in a year of service, I'd get any background I would want. All the pain erased, all the idle richness I can handle.
There's a lot of blood and grease coming out of every hole in my head. I can't leave the fetal position. I throw up all over myself. This was not the glamour the recruitment board promised.
Bicençio notices me. He steps close. He thanks me for my service. I've always been his best double agent. Ximon would now handle the heavy lifting of erasing his freedom fighters from the grid. Wouldn't expect them later on since all these quick-bake cloneslugs provided genetic material evidence of their relocation to skid row. They couldn't handle the black virus camera pulse but the nanites were doing a fine job of basic reconstruction. The people were supposed to be post-camera scrambled so it didn't matter much.
It's a damn shame I'm still useful to the cause. The migraine hits me again, data again being removed from me and replaced with default bio-programming. But don't worry, the people I photographed will get to live. Some day they may be able to let me stay me, too. Just one more year of service.
|
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember waking up, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw myself floating away from the comfortable bed I had been sleeping in only moments earlier. I looked up, but all I could see was a terribly bright light, the beam of it surrounding me. The light became brighter and brighter as I inched closer towards its source. I remember hearing a mechanical sound, faintly resembling the sound my garage door makes when I open it.
Moments later, I was lying on a floor, three strange creatures watching me from a distance. The creature in the brightest outfit walked towards and put out what I can only guess was his hand: "Greetings, earthling."
They had explained they had been watching for a long time and they believed our small earth could not sustain all its life for much longer. As a form of population control, they deemed it necessary to thin out the human race. They had chosen me to pick out the fated few that would live on and repopulate the earth. They gave me a camera and told me I had one year to photograph all those I wished to keep alive.
That happened a year ago. Today, I'm back up on their spaceship. These aliens think they could just suddenly decide the human race was "overpopulated". Oh boy, they'll never see this one coming!
"Hello again, Jack."
I couldn't resist to smile. "Hey there Qiznop."
"You look awfully happy for someone who will soon be responsible for the death of millions", Qiznop replied. His English was surpringly good for someone from a different planet.
This guy thought he knew so much about humans. He really thought we would give up so easily.
"Don't be so sure about it, buddy."
Qiznop looked at me. I couldn't quite understand these creatures' faces, but I'm pretty sure he looked surprised. Laughing maniacally I handed him a single photo. He stared at it for a solid minute before he opened his mouth: "what...how.."
I'll be honest with you. When I first got the camera, I was pretty scared of the consequences. It had felt like an enormous burden. At first I had thought of just photographing my family and friends. That seemed like the number one priority; after that I'd just photograph anyone I came across. But somehow that felt selfish, as if it was my duty to pick the "right" people, rather than those I would want to see alive. I wanted to photograph at least one man and women from every country to ensure genetic variety. I also wanted to pick these people based on merit, only those highly intelligent the physically strong should survive.
In the end, I had contemplated who to pick for so long that 9 months had already passed and I hadn't photographed a single person. The gnawing thought of the nearing deadline only made it harder to focus. That's when I had the genius thought that would ultimately save the human race. I went online and found one of those private space travel organizations, where they shoot you into orbit for a few hours. It cost me all my money and then some, but it was worth it. Five days before the deadline, I was shot into space. That's when I took my picture.
"This is just a picture of the earth!", Qiznop shouted.
"Yep."
"But...what!?"
"Everyone on earth is in that single picture. I guess you won't be killing anyone today after all."
Qiznop opened his mouth, but no words came out. You could see the disbelief in his eyes. He only started talking after what felt like an eternity.
"We... We needed the photographs so that we could identify the people you wanted to see alive. I told you this. How do you expect us to identify anyone from this? There's not a single recognizable face!"
"Oh."
"Besides, you do realize that you aren't in this picture either, right?"
"Oh.."
"We knew humans weren't very intelligent, but I never expected this!" Hesitantly, he picked up a device from a nearby table. "..sigh. Initiate Operation Cleanup."
And that's how I killed the entire human race.
| I go into space after pleading to Elon Musk. Elon, being a good guy, says sure fuck it why not? I fly into space in a glorious ball of fire. I take several pictures so I get the whole planet. Do a few orbits just to be sure I got everyone twice. I take a picture of myself to be safe. I wait for the aliens to return, sitting naked on my beanbag chair eating Cheetos . Aliens comes back to my house. I don't bother getting dressed. I say I got the entire planet, your move mr. alien.
Mr. Alien goes "that's not what I meant!"
Me: Instructions were unclear. You failed to specify picture quality restraints. You failed to specify if I could have more than one person per picture. I got about 3 Billion people per frame. Have a nice day.
I go back to beanbag chair and continue eating Cheetos naked, and yell out "never choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it."
The Alien, realizing their mistake, thinks to themselves "fuck, I'll have to give the camera to someone less intelligent who thinks they are not lazy next time" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | I go into space after pleading to Elon Musk. Elon, being a good guy, says sure fuck it why not? I fly into space in a glorious ball of fire. I take several pictures so I get the whole planet. Do a few orbits just to be sure I got everyone twice. I take a picture of myself to be safe. I wait for the aliens to return, sitting naked on my beanbag chair eating Cheetos . Aliens comes back to my house. I don't bother getting dressed. I say I got the entire planet, your move mr. alien.
Mr. Alien goes "that's not what I meant!"
Me: Instructions were unclear. You failed to specify picture quality restraints. You failed to specify if I could have more than one person per picture. I got about 3 Billion people per frame. Have a nice day.
I go back to beanbag chair and continue eating Cheetos naked, and yell out "never choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it."
The Alien, realizing their mistake, thinks to themselves "fuck, I'll have to give the camera to someone less intelligent who thinks they are not lazy next time" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | I go into space after pleading to Elon Musk. Elon, being a good guy, says sure fuck it why not? I fly into space in a glorious ball of fire. I take several pictures so I get the whole planet. Do a few orbits just to be sure I got everyone twice. I take a picture of myself to be safe. I wait for the aliens to return, sitting naked on my beanbag chair eating Cheetos . Aliens comes back to my house. I don't bother getting dressed. I say I got the entire planet, your move mr. alien.
Mr. Alien goes "that's not what I meant!"
Me: Instructions were unclear. You failed to specify picture quality restraints. You failed to specify if I could have more than one person per picture. I got about 3 Billion people per frame. Have a nice day.
I go back to beanbag chair and continue eating Cheetos naked, and yell out "never choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it."
The Alien, realizing their mistake, thinks to themselves "fuck, I'll have to give the camera to someone less intelligent who thinks they are not lazy next time" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | I go into space after pleading to Elon Musk. Elon, being a good guy, says sure fuck it why not? I fly into space in a glorious ball of fire. I take several pictures so I get the whole planet. Do a few orbits just to be sure I got everyone twice. I take a picture of myself to be safe. I wait for the aliens to return, sitting naked on my beanbag chair eating Cheetos . Aliens comes back to my house. I don't bother getting dressed. I say I got the entire planet, your move mr. alien.
Mr. Alien goes "that's not what I meant!"
Me: Instructions were unclear. You failed to specify picture quality restraints. You failed to specify if I could have more than one person per picture. I got about 3 Billion people per frame. Have a nice day.
I go back to beanbag chair and continue eating Cheetos naked, and yell out "never choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it."
The Alien, realizing their mistake, thinks to themselves "fuck, I'll have to give the camera to someone less intelligent who thinks they are not lazy next time" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember waking up, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I looked down and saw myself floating away from the comfortable bed I had been sleeping in only moments earlier. I looked up, but all I could see was a terribly bright light, the beam of it surrounding me. The light became brighter and brighter as I inched closer towards its source. I remember hearing a mechanical sound, faintly resembling the sound my garage door makes when I open it.
Moments later, I was lying on a floor, three strange creatures watching me from a distance. The creature in the brightest outfit walked towards and put out what I can only guess was his hand: "Greetings, earthling."
They had explained they had been watching for a long time and they believed our small earth could not sustain all its life for much longer. As a form of population control, they deemed it necessary to thin out the human race. They had chosen me to pick out the fated few that would live on and repopulate the earth. They gave me a camera and told me I had one year to photograph all those I wished to keep alive.
That happened a year ago. Today, I'm back up on their spaceship. These aliens think they could just suddenly decide the human race was "overpopulated". Oh boy, they'll never see this one coming!
"Hello again, Jack."
I couldn't resist to smile. "Hey there Qiznop."
"You look awfully happy for someone who will soon be responsible for the death of millions", Qiznop replied. His English was surpringly good for someone from a different planet.
This guy thought he knew so much about humans. He really thought we would give up so easily.
"Don't be so sure about it, buddy."
Qiznop looked at me. I couldn't quite understand these creatures' faces, but I'm pretty sure he looked surprised. Laughing maniacally I handed him a single photo. He stared at it for a solid minute before he opened his mouth: "what...how.."
I'll be honest with you. When I first got the camera, I was pretty scared of the consequences. It had felt like an enormous burden. At first I had thought of just photographing my family and friends. That seemed like the number one priority; after that I'd just photograph anyone I came across. But somehow that felt selfish, as if it was my duty to pick the "right" people, rather than those I would want to see alive. I wanted to photograph at least one man and women from every country to ensure genetic variety. I also wanted to pick these people based on merit, only those highly intelligent the physically strong should survive.
In the end, I had contemplated who to pick for so long that 9 months had already passed and I hadn't photographed a single person. The gnawing thought of the nearing deadline only made it harder to focus. That's when I had the genius thought that would ultimately save the human race. I went online and found one of those private space travel organizations, where they shoot you into orbit for a few hours. It cost me all my money and then some, but it was worth it. Five days before the deadline, I was shot into space. That's when I took my picture.
"This is just a picture of the earth!", Qiznop shouted.
"Yep."
"But...what!?"
"Everyone on earth is in that single picture. I guess you won't be killing anyone today after all."
Qiznop opened his mouth, but no words came out. You could see the disbelief in his eyes. He only started talking after what felt like an eternity.
"We... We needed the photographs so that we could identify the people you wanted to see alive. I told you this. How do you expect us to identify anyone from this? There's not a single recognizable face!"
"Oh."
"Besides, you do realize that you aren't in this picture either, right?"
"Oh.."
"We knew humans weren't very intelligent, but I never expected this!" Hesitantly, he picked up a device from a nearby table. "..sigh. Initiate Operation Cleanup."
And that's how I killed the entire human race.
| "So what you're saying is that as long as the person is in the frame, it counts?"
"Uh... Yes, but you can't take a fake picture. That is, you can't take a photo of a bunch of photos and claim that's them. It only counts if the photo is a live shot"
"Interesting. Say, any chance you guys can give me a ride to low orbit?"
"Uh... I guess? No harm, I suppose."
"Neat."
......
"So, why did you want to go here?"
"Well, the way I see it, I could just take a few shots of the earth, and technically I took a shot of every human on earth. The fact that it doesn't show up die to low resolution is on you, so you'd still have to give it to me, right?"
"Uh... Yeah. Well played earthling. You have saved your race."
"Says who? I never said I'm taking the picture. I just wanted my last words to those damn people to be from space."
As the protagonist smashed the camera on the spacecraft's floor, his last words were "me too, thanks".
The planet was incinerated 364 days later. Unless it was a leap year, I guess. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Aliens came to earth. Was crazy. Gave me a camera and were all like "only those you photograph will live." So I take a picture of me and my high school crush. Now my plan is to wait a year. She told me we would never get together even if we were the last people on earth. WE GON SEE. | "So what you're saying is that as long as the person is in the frame, it counts?"
"Uh... Yes, but you can't take a fake picture. That is, you can't take a photo of a bunch of photos and claim that's them. It only counts if the photo is a live shot"
"Interesting. Say, any chance you guys can give me a ride to low orbit?"
"Uh... I guess? No harm, I suppose."
"Neat."
......
"So, why did you want to go here?"
"Well, the way I see it, I could just take a few shots of the earth, and technically I took a shot of every human on earth. The fact that it doesn't show up die to low resolution is on you, so you'd still have to give it to me, right?"
"Uh... Yeah. Well played earthling. You have saved your race."
"Says who? I never said I'm taking the picture. I just wanted my last words to those damn people to be from space."
As the protagonist smashed the camera on the spacecraft's floor, his last words were "me too, thanks".
The planet was incinerated 364 days later. Unless it was a leap year, I guess. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, holding the camera with the least of my palms as I can.
The aliens are silent.
"This is so stupid," I say, taking the camera in one hand and pulling up a picture on Google Images for "Universe". I quickly find a diagram of the Big Bang, from then, up to now.
I take a picture of the diagram, and then throw the camera back in their stupid hands. | "So what you're saying is that as long as the person is in the frame, it counts?"
"Uh... Yes, but you can't take a fake picture. That is, you can't take a photo of a bunch of photos and claim that's them. It only counts if the photo is a live shot"
"Interesting. Say, any chance you guys can give me a ride to low orbit?"
"Uh... I guess? No harm, I suppose."
"Neat."
......
"So, why did you want to go here?"
"Well, the way I see it, I could just take a few shots of the earth, and technically I took a shot of every human on earth. The fact that it doesn't show up die to low resolution is on you, so you'd still have to give it to me, right?"
"Uh... Yeah. Well played earthling. You have saved your race."
"Says who? I never said I'm taking the picture. I just wanted my last words to those damn people to be from space."
As the protagonist smashed the camera on the spacecraft's floor, his last words were "me too, thanks".
The planet was incinerated 364 days later. Unless it was a leap year, I guess. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | "So what you're saying is that as long as the person is in the frame, it counts?"
"Uh... Yes, but you can't take a fake picture. That is, you can't take a photo of a bunch of photos and claim that's them. It only counts if the photo is a live shot"
"Interesting. Say, any chance you guys can give me a ride to low orbit?"
"Uh... I guess? No harm, I suppose."
"Neat."
......
"So, why did you want to go here?"
"Well, the way I see it, I could just take a few shots of the earth, and technically I took a shot of every human on earth. The fact that it doesn't show up die to low resolution is on you, so you'd still have to give it to me, right?"
"Uh... Yeah. Well played earthling. You have saved your race."
"Says who? I never said I'm taking the picture. I just wanted my last words to those damn people to be from space."
As the protagonist smashed the camera on the spacecraft's floor, his last words were "me too, thanks".
The planet was incinerated 364 days later. Unless it was a leap year, I guess. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | As we cruised through the atmosphere, I decided the least I could do was spark some conversation. This whole thing was very awkward, but it couldn't hurt to try.
"...So uh, this thing is powered entirely by electricity then?"
Elon Musk leaned back from the cockpit, a charismatic grin spread across his face. "Oh yeah! The power of the EM drive. You know it defies Newtons 3rd law? This thing is gonna carry us to Mars by 2037!"
"....I thought it was 2036?"
"........."
"........."
*ahem*"so anyways, how do you know how to pilot this?..."
"Oh! It's my ship isn't it? **heHA!**"
"...So it's sort of a Tony Stark Ironman thing?"
"Yeah I guess you could say that!"
Nervously eyeing his balding bodyguard, I leaned over to the window. There it was.
The earth.
"So...it's just one photo and we're done then?"
"Hm? Oh no its gonna actually be two. Both sides!"
"Oh yea yea right...................."
...................................................*hrm*
...................................................
Really not good with talking. Honestly don't know why *I* got the camera of all people. Probably totally random chance. I periodically snapped some photos, as we lazily drifted above our home. After all the panic that ensued when word got out about the camera shtick, this all seemed very anticlimactic.
"...kinda crazy right? This whole loophole thing we got on the Aliens? Heh, it's ^pretty ^^crazy ^^^I ^^^gue-"
**"OH YOU BET HEHAHAHA** *high fives bodyguard*" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "It's been one year James. We've returned to see who is in your photos."
Nervously I handed the camera back to the alien and he started flipping through.
"First photo is a selfie. Smart but not unexpected. Cute girl in the second photo..."
"That's Jennifer. She lives next door."
"Third photo..."
"That's Jennifer too." I blurted out.
The alien glared at me. "These photos are all Jennifer. Most of them are creep shots. Not cool dude."
"You said I could save everyone I photographed. Jennifer is so pretty and I don't really care about anyone else."
"This isn't really isn't what we meant."
"So when can I give Jennifer the good news we are the last man and woman on Earth?"
"You know what? Deal's off. Everyone lives." | I dont have the time to write but I can imagine a story where a girl tells a guy that she wouldn't be with him if he was the last man on Earth. The man meets the aliens and goes around and photographs all the beautiful women he meets. After one year he is left with only the most exotic females on the planet. They all become lesbians. FIN. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Zroglak chuckled as he watched the bright eyed photography student hit the ground running after the tractor beam gently set him back on Earth. It was hard not to fall for the guy, soon to be the biggest star in the knowable universe.
Hembglemn ambled up to the viewing monitor. "What's going on over here?" he asked.
"Okay, so get ready for this pitch. I just gave that kid an ordinary Earth camera, and I told him humanity was doomed unless he took pictures of everyone he knows and loves. The story goes like this: there's a giant wave of radiation hurtling towards Earth. The only device capable of immunizing humans to space cancer was that camera, so he has to take photos of everyone he knows and loves or they'll all die within the year."
"Okay, sounds interesting. A fate of the world in your hands situation." Hembglemn stroked a slimy tentacle across the glistening nodule below his mouth, somewhat analogous to a chin. "So he'll start out running around like a crazy person trying to explain it to people, then he'll stop bothering and start making up clever excuses... that could be funny. I guess we'll get a lot of pictures of his friends and family at first."
Zroglak let out a sulfuric belch. "Yeah, that's not the best part. At the end of season one, we're gonna abduct him again, and we're *only* gonna kill the people he photographed. You still following?"
Hembglemn started gyrating excitedly. "Oh my crap. All that work and all those people, doomed by his hand? Crap dude, you're really onto something. Okay okay, I'm totally following."
Zroglak leaned in closer, getting even more excited. "For season 2 we're gonna make him do it again, but this time he'll know we killed those people. We'll show him our nuclear blasters pointed at the Earth, maybe flex a little muscle so he knows we mean business, and then... we're gonna compliment his art."
"His art? You mean the photographs?" Hembglemn's bulbous midsection pulsated with laughter, much like a frog's throat. "We're gonna butter him up! Humanity is doomed, but he'll be our special little exception! That's rich!"
"He's gonna eat it up like a Greffalo with its own shit. So season 2 is gonna be the same damn thing, but this time we'll *promise* to spare everyone he photographs. This time we're his biggest fans. We're-" Zroglak paused to compose himself, struggling to control his laughter, "We're MOVED by his ART!"
The two burst into hysterics, laughing to the point of tears. "Zrog, Zrog, you've done it, you've done it. Oh my crap, keep going man, do we kill the humans?"
"Does killing humans get ratings? Of course we kill the humans. We kill every man, woman, and child he photographs and film his reaction the whole time. It's gonna be nuts man, just absolutely bonkers. And that's just season 2! So season 3 rolls around, and this time we reveal that his whole ordeal has just been a reality show. Not only has he been selecting the people who die, he's been saving us a ton of money on camera work by providing all those first person shots!"
Hembglemn gaped at Zroglak with open admiration. "That's just... beautiful. You're a maniac, man! We're gonna be so, so rich. So for season 3 we do it all again? Like, the exact same thing?"
"That's right," said Zroglak. "After all those mind games, he'll expect round three to be a bait and switch. I'm telling you, he really will. We've waited 450 years for a person with the right psychological profile, the perfect blend of naivety, optimism, and paranoia who also loves cameras. He'll think round three is a switcheroo and he's gonna..." Zroglak cracked a smile, Hembglemn cracked up a little, and soon they were both rolling on the floor crying with laughter. "He's gonna do it all again! And we're gonna do the same! Damn! Thing! It's gonna be great, I promise. Hoo, boy."
Hembglemn loved every bit of it. "Okay, so afterwards we blow up the planet, right?"
"Oh we annihilate the planet. I'm thinking that'll be the end credits for every episode, so the viewers know what they're getting. I guess we can spare the kid in case he draws a fan base. Maybe give him a girl human, I don't know. I'm kinda shaky on that part but it could work." Zroglak hmmmed as he considered all possible outcomes with processing power beyond Earth's greatest super computers. "No. No girlfriend. Humans are too resilient."
"Okay, so what do we call it?"
"Oh yeah, Earth God did this once to a guy named Job, and it just so happens..."
"No way."
"Yup, I had Quality Assurance brainwash his mom to make sure, just my own personal touch. We're calling it, 'Job Has a Job to Do.'"
A picture appeared on the live feed; Job, his dog, and his family, but the icon was labelled "photo2." Job had snapped a quick shot of Zroglak before he left, with Hembglemn's tentacle appearing in the background.
"Uhh, we're just gonna... delete that one." | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I inched up to his lunch table, those damned words running through my head over and over.
*"Only those you photograph will live."*
It'd been one week. I'd taken pictures of all the essentials—family, pets, close friends. I'd even taken one of myself just to make sure. The guys were totally fine with it. But there was one person I didn't want to think about parting with.
So I willed myself closer to the table of rowdy teenage boys. No way in hell was I telling him about those big-headed freaks. No, I'd have to be discreet about this. Act natural.
Let's face it, he was going to die if I didn't grow a pair and do this.
Steeling my nerves, I tapped him on the shoulder, emptiness filling my chest cavity as he looked up at me.
"Hey," I smiled, waving a tiny bit. "Mind if I take your picture?"
"Why do you want to take my picture?" Of course he'd try and avoid the question.
"Well, I-I'm in the photography club," I lied. "And they told me to take some pictures of students so I thought—"
"I'd rather you didn't take my picture," he excused.
"Come on, please," I pleaded, trying not to let the desperation seep into my tone. "I think you'd look really nice and it's not like we'd be publishing them *all* or anything."
"I've already told you no," he defended, his tone hardening.
"Just this once," I urged, my grip tightening on the camera. "Let me take this damn picture and I'll leave you alone."
"Why do you want to do this so ba—"
"I don't want to lose you," I interrupted. The world seemed to fall silent as he looked up at me.
"What do you—"
"Look, I can't tell you exactly," I whispered, leaning close to him, "but just know that I have to take this picture. I'll even take some of your friends to make sure you're not lonely or anything."
"Why can't you explain this to me?" he asked. I could see the panic overtaking his normally cool countenance, even as he tried to maintain the mask of calm.
"It's... It's complicated, okay? You'll see eventually, I promise." *That is, if you actually live to see it.* | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Only those you photograph will live. You have one year."
The small and grey extraterrestrial's intergalactic real-time translator droned on about brevity and efficiency and how his alien society upheld quality over quantity in regards to the people of its society. During this monologue, Adam inspected the camera and scanned the ship's control room as it went on about how, "like you humans", there were several "sub-species" of his alien race, all of which were exterminated for the sake of upholding the pure, strong, and supreme race of... whatever-he-is. It continued on, claiming that Adam had been handpicked to decide which of his species was the strongest and who deserved to live and create a better race fit for the Intergalactic Alliance.
Adam looked to his left and spotted a small window in the ship where the Earth in all it's glory was in full view. Without breaking eye contact with the blue marble, he lifted the camera to his chest, took a candid shot of the planet and handed the camera back to the alien as the Polaroid's instant film whizzed and printed out from the bottom. "We tried that out and it didn't exactly work so well. Better luck exterminating the next planet." Adam pulled off the best look of disdain he could muster, but only accomplished to look slightly constipated as he turned around and walked away from the alien.
Full of pride and cockiness for believing he single-handedly saved the human race, Adam made his way towards the open teleporter to be beamed back to his studio apartment outside of Sacramento, California. The alien picked the film from the camera when Adam was beamed out of the ship and back home to his Dr. Who marathon. The film developed and rendered, showing a crooked and incredibly blurry shot of panels and buttons on the wall with just a small bit of the window's trim visible in the bottom-left corner of the picture.
"Eh, I couldn't be bothered anyway," the alien thought to itself as it turned off the translator and put it on a nearby table. It then took out a clipboard and scratched out Earth from a long list of planets. "I'll just tell Xandu that I couldn't find a worthy candidate out of any of them," it said as it readied the warp drive to travel back to it's home planet. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | My photography skills sucked, they always have. Every picture was blurry or at a weird angle, some shots even managed to have my finger covering up the lens somehow. I never though photography was much of an important skill, until that day. Why they chose me out of all people, I'll never know. On a planet filled with famous photographers, cameramen, hell even vloggers would do, they chose the worst person for the job. They chose me. It's almost like they wanted us all to die...
But now it was time, and I was hoping that they would accept what I had done. I boarded the ship, the same one that landed here 365 days ago, and I handed the camera back to the aliens who had given it to me.
They stared at the camera's screen for a short time, seeing what was on the SD card, then looked back at me. "There's only one picture on here, and it's not of anyone."
"Yes it is." I said "It's a picture of everyone. It's the Earth. Everyone's there, the entire population. They're too small to see, but they're still there."
"That doesn't count!" They were quick to object.
"The only rule you gave me was that only those I photographed got to live, and I photographed everyone. You never said it had to be a clear photo of them, or even that they were supposed to be visible. We're all there, we all get to live." | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I ask "will you take me on a trip around the earth? Ive always wanted to see the earth from outer space"
The aliens agreed to take me around the earth a few times.
When we land on earth, I hand the camera back to the aliens.
Confused, they look at me, then the camera. They see i took a picture of the earth from all angles.
They ask "are you sure about this?"
With a grin I say "yes"
Everything goes black.
I forgot to take a picture of *myself* | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The first thing I did of course, before Zanthor had even left was take a selfie, with him in the picture.
"There, now you get to live too." I grinned at the quadrupedal alien.
It just grunted, almost annoyed at that.
"So how much of a person do I have to get for it to count?"
It's body wobbled a little perhaps a shrug.
"One think little of this venture, had not anticipated outcome." Zanthor... Said? Was it speaking? It didn't actually have lips and the sound didn't come from my ears, more the communication part of my brain.
"Any, capture any portion of peoples you wish and they will be saved"
I nodded and grabbed the recording device quickly scurrying past it, despite being smaller and four legged Earth's gravity clearly did not agree with him.
"You may not, entry forbidden." Zanhor almost whined.
"I am just going to borrow it, take two photos of Earth and I will be right back!" I grinned as it grunted again.
| I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The aliens had told the astronaut that she had one year to to photograph everyone she could. Those would be the only ones that would survive.
"One year?" The she scoffed to herself, "I'll only need about 31 minutes."
As she circled the globe she took only two pictures. That was all she needed to save everyone on earth. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I put my pole down in the boat. "Here are my terms." I said.
"You are not in a position to bargain," it said. And while I couldn't quite tell where the voice came from, I was able to look directly into its eye in the moonlight. Damn if I wasn't going to miss the catfish bite.
I explained my terms. "Indulge me," I said ending. "What does it matter to you and your little game anyway? Since you *know* that I'll take my own picture, you'll have to take me with you anyway." I nervously rubbed my lucky quarter in my front pocket.
"Agreed. One year." And they were off. I didn't catch shit that night.
I didn't tell a soul, *how could I*? I'd either be locked up as crazy, or locked up as captured and robbed of the camera. A Nikon digital no less! At least that's what it was supposed to be. Supposedly according to Grok, or whatever its name was, this was about a quad-bazillion pixel camera - I had insisted, part of my terms. "No crap-ass cameras... 'Nothin' but the best Clark!'"
I did take a few pictures over the year, family mostly, just to test it out mainly, but also because I knew they were watching. Part of my terms was no monitoring. But I didn't trust those bastards. And man-oh-man, they didn't skimp on the camera. You could see cousin Earl's back zits at 100 yards in a low light swamp. *Not that you'd want to*.
So finally, they were right back on time. A couple days short of a year. In no time I was on their ship, in orbit, with just the camera and the clothes on my back. I had a room, if you can call it that, where I could see the whole of the Earth through the window, just like in those old astronaut photos. Amazing. It truly does make you feel tiny. I also saw the great State of Mississippi come around a couple times. Lots of catfish down there. Damn shame. After a couple days they called me out.
"The year has expired" it said from up high. This was all some bullshit show. Granted, they did it up right. I was standing in the middle of a big circular tube with the alien weirdos sitting up and up in bleacher type things. "We upheld your terms" it said. There was some mumbling from the peanut gallery.
"How do I know that Grok?" I said.
"That is not my name. My name is unpronounceable to you," it said. "The camera."
A small tray on a pole came zooming over from the sky. I put the camera on it. After a minute a screen popped up.
"You understood our terms. Only humans in these pictures shall save the elimination. You have taken ten pictures." Ten small thumbnails of my photos popped up on the screen. The first was clearly a close up selfie of my ugly mug.
"You will be saved," it said. The thumbnail picture of me grew to to fill the screen. "The remaining pictures are composites of the whole of the the Earth. Apparently taken from our ship. We understand your desire to save the Earth. The rules were clear. persons only, not objects, including the Earth."
"Yeah," I said cutting off Mr. Tentacles. "I do appreciate you giving me the chance, and the camera. Its a hell of a piece of tech. As to those other photos you were just talking about, how about you zoom in on those, Boss." I rubbed my lucky quarter.
Next I knew I was back on the boat. I didn't catch shit that night. Thankfully though, the traffic was murder going back home that morning.
| I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I don't know why they chose me. Me. 350 pounds, pony tail, glasses wearing, acne having, neck bearded, 43 year old virgin me. I don't have any friends, that's not an exaggeration, not a single one. No family either. Dad abandoned my mom and me when I was 4, and mom over dosed when I was 17. I never had friends in school either, hell even the bullies didn't mess with me, a prime target, invisible to the world. My only out lit, my only comfort WRASTLIN'. So it still begs to question, why did the aliens chose me? Is it just a sick joke? Do they not really want the human race to be saved? Was it my "PUSSY DESTROYER" shirt?
I program from home so it's the perfect job for me and my complete lack of social skills, and it allows me to follow my one passion. Traveling all around the country following the WWF Tour. So obviously my first photos had to be taken at a match. Now I love me some of them female wrestlers, but my social awkwardness has me worried that I'll look like a perv taking pictures of them. So of course I don't. I even feel weird taking pictures of the men. What if someone wants to see them, and tries to talk to me?
Months have gone by, ten to be exact, and all I've done is taken pictures of male wrestlers, shots on shots of Brock Lesner and The Undertaker...and shit..I only have two months left to take pictures. Although only having my favorite wrestlers left in the world would be my ideal world, I know I can't let that happen. I haven't taken a picture of myself, I hate selfies, at this point I feel like I have a moral obligation not to, until I take pictures of more people.
I fret over what to do, how to approach it, my anxiety at an all time high. Then I see it, an ad for a photographer! I leapt up, this is my chance, I set up an interview, shaved, cut my hair, showered. I was going to land this job and save some lives! I don't like to boast, but I've become a really good photographer over the last year, and the alien's camera is super high quality, better than any camera you can get on earth.
I land the job!
It's for crime scenes.
I'm taking pictures of dead people. How am I going to save them? Just when I thought I was going to lose it, I meet Sally, lead detective, she's talking to me, I'm nervous, but it feels right. She ask me to take a picture of her with a particularly gruesome crime scene, I guess you have to have a sick sense of humor in this line of work. I take her picture. I save her. I'm in love. We go out for coffee after and we hit it off.
I lost my virginity. I get so wrapped up in Sally and the new job, I completely forget about saving the human race. I have two weeks left, but at this point Sally has brought me out of my cage, I'm talking to people like a normal person. I offer free photos to everyone I meet, if I can't save the entire world I can at least save my city.
I lost count of how many different people I took pictures of the last two weeks, had to be in the tens of thousands.
This is it though the final day.
The aliens are descending.
I realize I never took a picture of myself, I fumble the camera around to try and get in a quick selfie. A 9ft tall alien snatches it out of my hand, and instantly knows I didn't take a picture of myself.
He ask, "did you learn to live though?"
I smile, and think about the last two months, and reply, "Yes."
He smiles with 3 foot long teeth, turns back to his space ship and takes off. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “How many did this one save?”
Garthok grunts, gesturing for me to give him a moment while he inputs a string of numbers into the console. He checks his work over twice. Got to be careful about these things, after all. Mass extinction is delicate work.
Garthok picks up the camera sphere and pulls out the memory tube, squinting at the display on the side. “10,124,682 pictures.”
Impressive. “That’s gotta be a new record. How many humans do you think that is?” Garthok and I have been making the rounds for a while now. Plucking one unlucky soul from their sleep chamber, shoving a camera at them, and sending them on their merry way with a timer hanging over their heads.
“Not all of them,” Garthok says, placing the camera in the decontamination chamber. We’d learned that lesson about 5,000 planets ago. They were an awful, slimy species. Dumb as rocks. Ate the camera. I’m glad we zapped them all into oblivion.
“Well, load them up. Let’s take a look.”
Garthok slides the memory tube into the console with a click and a hiss. The console takes a moment to load all those pictures. Over ten million. Damn, that must’ve been one hell of a dedicated human. I hope this one remembered to take a picture of himself. Lot of them don’t. Too stupid to think about it, maybe. Not as stupid as eating the camera, though.
Finally, the console starts loading the pictures in batches. A hundred at a time, pages and pages of them flashing before us. It’s hard to make out, most of them a blur of beige. Had this human never used a camera sphere before? The focus is terrible.
Garthok leans in closer to the console, then taps something on it. The pictures zoom in to a more visible size, flashing by in a blur.
And I begin to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, until green ooze leaks from my eyes and my muscles begin to cramp.
This human managed to take ten million pictures in a year, and each and every one of them is a close-up, out-of-focus picture of himself. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I expected everyone would think I was crazy, but I had to try.
I was shocked when my phone call went through to Charles Bolden, the head of NASA. I was shocked when he didn't interrupt me. He just asked me to tell him what happened. I told him. I told him about the aliens, where they found me, what their ship was like, what they'd told me, what I now had to do.
"And... I don't... I don't know know what the rules are. I don't know how it works," I stammered, "but I thought... just maybe this is our best chance."
And then Mr. Bolden said, "Well, you made a good guess, son. And, best we can figure, you're right. It does work that way."
"It... it does? You know?"
"It does. That, or the aliens are just trolling us. Either way, they've been at this for a long time."
"Really? How long?"
"Since the 60's? Maybe longer. Seems they started with us and with Russia. Anyway, You've just been accepted as an astronaut. Get your affairs in order. We'll send someone out to pick you up in a week. I'm sure you'll take some fantastic pictures of Earth while you're up there." | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I had to save everyone I could. I wouldn't discriminate. Every rich, poor, black coloured , white, left and right person would be photographed. They'd be the only ones left after. The ones I photograph, to be precise.
It would be free, like a charity. Anyone who asked would have their picture taken, for it meant their life.
Until my wife was diagnosed with cancer. I couldn't afford the medical care, so I started charging. Not much at first, and the same for everyone. Just one dollar.
The government rolled up soon enough, only to find the shutter button didn't press for anyone but myself.
I didn't oppose them forcing me to photograph people, only when they held my newborn child captive did I.
Turns out deleting pictures had an instant effect, and I left the gory mess for someone else to clean up.
The billionaires were quick to approach me, and I had gathered somewhat of a cult by now. I couldn't save everyone, the math didn't work out. With all this power, hell, I could rule the world. Those billionaires left with a few cents to their name, those that didn't cooperate got their picture taken anyway.
They thought they'd outsmarted me, until I deleted their pictures. While I didn't approve of my "followers" hanging them from trees, it certainly created an aura of fear around me, and helped dispel the hordes of people who threw themselves at my feet constantly.
Mostly the people who had nothing left to lose. After the aliens do what they do, we couldn't have weak people slowing down the rebuilding process.
I deleted plenty of faces that day. Quite a museum was building now. I hung the delete button over everyone, a taunt greater than all others.
My cult travelled from sea to sea, taking and deleting pictures as we saw fit. I was the new god.
I thought as much, until the incomprehensible shape of the alien craft overshadowed my suddenly pitiful gang beneath a swathe of darkness and fog.
The camera was wrenched from my hands and drifted towards the mind-breaking ship.
I suppose my time to photograph had run out, but even if I did save as many as possible, there was one photograph I forgot to take.
A self-- | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Why me? I'm a part-time grocery assistant for God's sake. I shouldn't have any right to say who should live and who should die. Still, if someone has to do it, then I need to hurry.
Good thing the aliens also gave me enough money to cover transport costs, or everything outside of north-west England would cease to exist. And they only said humans, so I don't need to photograph samples of every species of beetle, or every type of fish. Or every tree that has ever lived.
I take a photo of my fiance and I first. He's always wanted as many photos as he could get of me - I'm camera shy, and much happier behind the camera than in shot - so he'll get his wish. My family. His family - as much as I can get. The random people on the street. People in the hospital, police, firefighters, teachers.
We drove for a while after that. We needed to get to as many nuclear reactors as possible, and thankfully Sellafield wasn't that far north.
I forgot places along the way. I never quite made it to Parliament (although I got a couple of good shots of MP's with their constituents), or Wall Street. Rupert Murdoch never posed for a picture with me, but Ellie, the bad-tempered manager that hired me when no-one else would, got photographs of her entire family in my album.
I couldn't get into North Korea. I don't think I'll ever stop regretting that.
I keep going. Online friends of my fiance, friends of those friends and so on... I take the pictures of nearly everyone at PAX East, and got everyone at Desert Bus. The geeks shall inherit the earth, apparently.
Tibetan temples, Antarctic research stations, Wrestlemania...I even went in a helicopter to get some photos of a few uncontacted tribes.
It's not enough. I run out of time about a day into a trip to visit aid workers in Somalia. And I collapse, drained and sobbing into a pillow in my shitty hotel room.
"Why are you crying? Your task is not yet over." It's a mixture of gurgles, chimes, crackles, beeps and every other noise I've ever heard (and some I haven't), but it's still recognisable. I wish they'd given me their translators as well, but it doesn't matter now.
It's over.
"You said a year. It's been a year. I didn't finish it."
Incomprehensible noises follow, and then a ringing voice. It sounds almost...contrite?
"Your years are shorter. We did not anticipate this. Our apologies. We meant one of our years."
Self-loathing ignites into fury in an instant.
"How long is one of your years?"
Buzzing, shrieking, humming followed before an answer.
"According to our experts, our sidereal period is roughly ten times the length of yours. We shall, of course, recompense you for the misunderstanding."
I sigh, wipe my face and pick up my camera. Someone has to do it. And I still need to hurry.
Even if I don't have to hurry quite as much as I thought. | I have always been searching for that one feeling. But everytime I thought I found it, it slipped away from me like a eel in fast river waters. This was until they got me.
It was hard to believe it was true, being the cynical bastard I was, but it was. Aliens were real and they kidnapped people. Apparently I was the first one to be abducted, meaning every single story I had heard was fake, as I thought. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world stopped believing them aswell, but mine was real.
My brief stay on their "ship" if I can call it that, was pretty simple. I woke up tied up in front of a couple of exoskeletons, they told me I could make 2 questions. Stupidly, I asked what was going on, in wich they just answered I was being the lab rat in an experiment, and I asked if they caught anyone else. Then they gave me a clock, a camera and a strange device.
The clock read 365:23:12:32, and was counting down. I had a year to do something. That something was simply take photos of whoever I wanted to survive. I simply had to connect the camera to the machine and they got all of the pictures, but I could only do it once. The moment they told me this, I felt strange. Strange, but happy.
That feeling I searched for, my pursuit, it was over. I felt acomplished, important, but mostly thrilled. I was the deciding factor in the human race. I could be who I wanted, to save everyone, to save myself, to purge the world or to finish it all. And the only thing that would keep that feeling was to do the grandest thing of them all. I wanted to save everyone that I could. And so I set on to do it.
Every big gathering there was, I would be there. Every penny I had was dedicated to traveling to those. After some time I discovered the clock had another counter. The amount of people I hadn't captured yet. So my objective was measurable, that gave me motivation.
I visited every country, every town, every province. No stone was let unturned. Traveled through factories, churches, warfields. I did everything I could and finally did it. Everyone was saved, and I still had 12 hours to go. I sent it and decided to go party with my closest friends. I drank, I danced, I met girls, went to a casino. I did everything that night. The moment I saw the clock hit 0:
-"Shit! I forgot about me--" |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I inched up to his lunch table, those damned words running through my head over and over.
*"Only those you photograph will live."*
It'd been one week. I'd taken pictures of all the essentials—family, pets, close friends. I'd even taken one of myself just to make sure. The guys were totally fine with it. But there was one person I didn't want to think about parting with.
So I willed myself closer to the table of rowdy teenage boys. No way in hell was I telling him about those big-headed freaks. No, I'd have to be discreet about this. Act natural.
Let's face it, he was going to die if I didn't grow a pair and do this.
Steeling my nerves, I tapped him on the shoulder, emptiness filling my chest cavity as he looked up at me.
"Hey," I smiled, waving a tiny bit. "Mind if I take your picture?"
"Why do you want to take my picture?" Of course he'd try and avoid the question.
"Well, I-I'm in the photography club," I lied. "And they told me to take some pictures of students so I thought—"
"I'd rather you didn't take my picture," he excused.
"Come on, please," I pleaded, trying not to let the desperation seep into my tone. "I think you'd look really nice and it's not like we'd be publishing them *all* or anything."
"I've already told you no," he defended, his tone hardening.
"Just this once," I urged, my grip tightening on the camera. "Let me take this damn picture and I'll leave you alone."
"Why do you want to do this so ba—"
"I don't want to lose you," I interrupted. The world seemed to fall silent as he looked up at me.
"What do you—"
"Look, I can't tell you exactly," I whispered, leaning close to him, "but just know that I have to take this picture. I'll even take some of your friends to make sure you're not lonely or anything."
"Why can't you explain this to me?" he asked. I could see the panic overtaking his normally cool countenance, even as he tried to maintain the mask of calm.
"It's... It's complicated, okay? You'll see eventually, I promise." *That is, if you actually live to see it.* | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Only those you photograph will live. You have one year."
The small and grey extraterrestrial's intergalactic real-time translator droned on about brevity and efficiency and how his alien society upheld quality over quantity in regards to the people of its society. During this monologue, Adam inspected the camera and scanned the ship's control room as it went on about how, "like you humans", there were several "sub-species" of his alien race, all of which were exterminated for the sake of upholding the pure, strong, and supreme race of... whatever-he-is. It continued on, claiming that Adam had been handpicked to decide which of his species was the strongest and who deserved to live and create a better race fit for the Intergalactic Alliance.
Adam looked to his left and spotted a small window in the ship where the Earth in all it's glory was in full view. Without breaking eye contact with the blue marble, he lifted the camera to his chest, took a candid shot of the planet and handed the camera back to the alien as the Polaroid's instant film whizzed and printed out from the bottom. "We tried that out and it didn't exactly work so well. Better luck exterminating the next planet." Adam pulled off the best look of disdain he could muster, but only accomplished to look slightly constipated as he turned around and walked away from the alien.
Full of pride and cockiness for believing he single-handedly saved the human race, Adam made his way towards the open teleporter to be beamed back to his studio apartment outside of Sacramento, California. The alien picked the film from the camera when Adam was beamed out of the ship and back home to his Dr. Who marathon. The film developed and rendered, showing a crooked and incredibly blurry shot of panels and buttons on the wall with just a small bit of the window's trim visible in the bottom-left corner of the picture.
"Eh, I couldn't be bothered anyway," the alien thought to itself as it turned off the translator and put it on a nearby table. It then took out a clipboard and scratched out Earth from a long list of planets. "I'll just tell Xandu that I couldn't find a worthy candidate out of any of them," it said as it readied the warp drive to travel back to it's home planet. | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | My photography skills sucked, they always have. Every picture was blurry or at a weird angle, some shots even managed to have my finger covering up the lens somehow. I never though photography was much of an important skill, until that day. Why they chose me out of all people, I'll never know. On a planet filled with famous photographers, cameramen, hell even vloggers would do, they chose the worst person for the job. They chose me. It's almost like they wanted us all to die...
But now it was time, and I was hoping that they would accept what I had done. I boarded the ship, the same one that landed here 365 days ago, and I handed the camera back to the aliens who had given it to me.
They stared at the camera's screen for a short time, seeing what was on the SD card, then looked back at me. "There's only one picture on here, and it's not of anyone."
"Yes it is." I said "It's a picture of everyone. It's the Earth. Everyone's there, the entire population. They're too small to see, but they're still there."
"That doesn't count!" They were quick to object.
"The only rule you gave me was that only those I photographed got to live, and I photographed everyone. You never said it had to be a clear photo of them, or even that they were supposed to be visible. We're all there, we all get to live." | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I ask "will you take me on a trip around the earth? Ive always wanted to see the earth from outer space"
The aliens agreed to take me around the earth a few times.
When we land on earth, I hand the camera back to the aliens.
Confused, they look at me, then the camera. They see i took a picture of the earth from all angles.
They ask "are you sure about this?"
With a grin I say "yes"
Everything goes black.
I forgot to take a picture of *myself* | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The aliens had told the astronaut that she had one year to to photograph everyone she could. Those would be the only ones that would survive.
"One year?" The she scoffed to herself, "I'll only need about 31 minutes."
As she circled the globe she took only two pictures. That was all she needed to save everyone on earth. | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I put my pole down in the boat. "Here are my terms." I said.
"You are not in a position to bargain," it said. And while I couldn't quite tell where the voice came from, I was able to look directly into its eye in the moonlight. Damn if I wasn't going to miss the catfish bite.
I explained my terms. "Indulge me," I said ending. "What does it matter to you and your little game anyway? Since you *know* that I'll take my own picture, you'll have to take me with you anyway." I nervously rubbed my lucky quarter in my front pocket.
"Agreed. One year." And they were off. I didn't catch shit that night.
I didn't tell a soul, *how could I*? I'd either be locked up as crazy, or locked up as captured and robbed of the camera. A Nikon digital no less! At least that's what it was supposed to be. Supposedly according to Grok, or whatever its name was, this was about a quad-bazillion pixel camera - I had insisted, part of my terms. "No crap-ass cameras... 'Nothin' but the best Clark!'"
I did take a few pictures over the year, family mostly, just to test it out mainly, but also because I knew they were watching. Part of my terms was no monitoring. But I didn't trust those bastards. And man-oh-man, they didn't skimp on the camera. You could see cousin Earl's back zits at 100 yards in a low light swamp. *Not that you'd want to*.
So finally, they were right back on time. A couple days short of a year. In no time I was on their ship, in orbit, with just the camera and the clothes on my back. I had a room, if you can call it that, where I could see the whole of the Earth through the window, just like in those old astronaut photos. Amazing. It truly does make you feel tiny. I also saw the great State of Mississippi come around a couple times. Lots of catfish down there. Damn shame. After a couple days they called me out.
"The year has expired" it said from up high. This was all some bullshit show. Granted, they did it up right. I was standing in the middle of a big circular tube with the alien weirdos sitting up and up in bleacher type things. "We upheld your terms" it said. There was some mumbling from the peanut gallery.
"How do I know that Grok?" I said.
"That is not my name. My name is unpronounceable to you," it said. "The camera."
A small tray on a pole came zooming over from the sky. I put the camera on it. After a minute a screen popped up.
"You understood our terms. Only humans in these pictures shall save the elimination. You have taken ten pictures." Ten small thumbnails of my photos popped up on the screen. The first was clearly a close up selfie of my ugly mug.
"You will be saved," it said. The thumbnail picture of me grew to to fill the screen. "The remaining pictures are composites of the whole of the the Earth. Apparently taken from our ship. We understand your desire to save the Earth. The rules were clear. persons only, not objects, including the Earth."
"Yeah," I said cutting off Mr. Tentacles. "I do appreciate you giving me the chance, and the camera. Its a hell of a piece of tech. As to those other photos you were just talking about, how about you zoom in on those, Boss." I rubbed my lucky quarter.
Next I knew I was back on the boat. I didn't catch shit that night. Thankfully though, the traffic was murder going back home that morning.
| Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I don't know why they chose me. Me. 350 pounds, pony tail, glasses wearing, acne having, neck bearded, 43 year old virgin me. I don't have any friends, that's not an exaggeration, not a single one. No family either. Dad abandoned my mom and me when I was 4, and mom over dosed when I was 17. I never had friends in school either, hell even the bullies didn't mess with me, a prime target, invisible to the world. My only out lit, my only comfort WRASTLIN'. So it still begs to question, why did the aliens chose me? Is it just a sick joke? Do they not really want the human race to be saved? Was it my "PUSSY DESTROYER" shirt?
I program from home so it's the perfect job for me and my complete lack of social skills, and it allows me to follow my one passion. Traveling all around the country following the WWF Tour. So obviously my first photos had to be taken at a match. Now I love me some of them female wrestlers, but my social awkwardness has me worried that I'll look like a perv taking pictures of them. So of course I don't. I even feel weird taking pictures of the men. What if someone wants to see them, and tries to talk to me?
Months have gone by, ten to be exact, and all I've done is taken pictures of male wrestlers, shots on shots of Brock Lesner and The Undertaker...and shit..I only have two months left to take pictures. Although only having my favorite wrestlers left in the world would be my ideal world, I know I can't let that happen. I haven't taken a picture of myself, I hate selfies, at this point I feel like I have a moral obligation not to, until I take pictures of more people.
I fret over what to do, how to approach it, my anxiety at an all time high. Then I see it, an ad for a photographer! I leapt up, this is my chance, I set up an interview, shaved, cut my hair, showered. I was going to land this job and save some lives! I don't like to boast, but I've become a really good photographer over the last year, and the alien's camera is super high quality, better than any camera you can get on earth.
I land the job!
It's for crime scenes.
I'm taking pictures of dead people. How am I going to save them? Just when I thought I was going to lose it, I meet Sally, lead detective, she's talking to me, I'm nervous, but it feels right. She ask me to take a picture of her with a particularly gruesome crime scene, I guess you have to have a sick sense of humor in this line of work. I take her picture. I save her. I'm in love. We go out for coffee after and we hit it off.
I lost my virginity. I get so wrapped up in Sally and the new job, I completely forget about saving the human race. I have two weeks left, but at this point Sally has brought me out of my cage, I'm talking to people like a normal person. I offer free photos to everyone I meet, if I can't save the entire world I can at least save my city.
I lost count of how many different people I took pictures of the last two weeks, had to be in the tens of thousands.
This is it though the final day.
The aliens are descending.
I realize I never took a picture of myself, I fumble the camera around to try and get in a quick selfie. A 9ft tall alien snatches it out of my hand, and instantly knows I didn't take a picture of myself.
He ask, "did you learn to live though?"
I smile, and think about the last two months, and reply, "Yes."
He smiles with 3 foot long teeth, turns back to his space ship and takes off. | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “How many did this one save?”
Garthok grunts, gesturing for me to give him a moment while he inputs a string of numbers into the console. He checks his work over twice. Got to be careful about these things, after all. Mass extinction is delicate work.
Garthok picks up the camera sphere and pulls out the memory tube, squinting at the display on the side. “10,124,682 pictures.”
Impressive. “That’s gotta be a new record. How many humans do you think that is?” Garthok and I have been making the rounds for a while now. Plucking one unlucky soul from their sleep chamber, shoving a camera at them, and sending them on their merry way with a timer hanging over their heads.
“Not all of them,” Garthok says, placing the camera in the decontamination chamber. We’d learned that lesson about 5,000 planets ago. They were an awful, slimy species. Dumb as rocks. Ate the camera. I’m glad we zapped them all into oblivion.
“Well, load them up. Let’s take a look.”
Garthok slides the memory tube into the console with a click and a hiss. The console takes a moment to load all those pictures. Over ten million. Damn, that must’ve been one hell of a dedicated human. I hope this one remembered to take a picture of himself. Lot of them don’t. Too stupid to think about it, maybe. Not as stupid as eating the camera, though.
Finally, the console starts loading the pictures in batches. A hundred at a time, pages and pages of them flashing before us. It’s hard to make out, most of them a blur of beige. Had this human never used a camera sphere before? The focus is terrible.
Garthok leans in closer to the console, then taps something on it. The pictures zoom in to a more visible size, flashing by in a blur.
And I begin to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, until green ooze leaks from my eyes and my muscles begin to cramp.
This human managed to take ten million pictures in a year, and each and every one of them is a close-up, out-of-focus picture of himself. | Rule number one of getting abducted by aliens: have witnesses, or at least people who will believe you when you promise you're telling the truth.
They said to call them the Cetians after our name for their star, Tau Ceti. It wasn't their name for themselves or their star, but when you're working with an entirely different intelligent species, someone's going to have to give ground on name schemes, and because I literally didn't have the second tongue to say it properly. Yeah. Let's not get into what they look like, because I don't think any language on planet Earth has the words. Nobody had to invent them before now.
Rule number two of getting abducted by aliens: they tend to not have the same sense of ethics that we do.
So when they took out both of my nearsighted eyes and replaced them with the height of Cetian replacement optics technology, they thought they were doing me a favor. I have a red eye and a purple eye now. The red eye can see past the infrared if I concentrate and the purple past the ultraviolet, along with the visible light spectrum. Sorry, the Human visible light spectrum. It isn't as useful as I thought at first. There aren't a ton of x or gamma rays flying around to light things up, and it's pretty much exactly the opposite problem on the other end: radio, radar, and TV pretty much blind you.
I can casually swing a pen at my eye without blinking and I set off metal detectors with my face. I try not to do the metal detector thing much, because have you ever had your eyes start to fill up with static? Yeah, unsettling. Not quite as unsettling as the belch from their waste disposal system when they dropped my eyes into it, but close.
Rule number three of getting abducted by aliens: no, you can't go with them.
See, this was part of the favor they were doing. They picked me because I seemed representative of the species; they picked me because they needed a human whose life could be interrupted for a year with the world continuing to spin on. They picked me because they knew the best judge of human ethics would be a human who had actually taken an ethics class.
It was at this point I decided not to tell them that it was only a community college class and they could have very easily gotten an ethics professor, because I wanted to keep my replacement eyes thank you very much.
They then explained that there was one other catch to the whole thing: the earth was headed for disaster. An unstoppable conqueror was carving a swath through us on their way to Rigel. They'd already sacked, pillaged, and burned about four other planetary systems. Humanity, by virtue of not being a spacefaring race, had been deemed expendable. The Cetians thought that wasn't fair. By the power vested in them by the Galactic Confederacy, they declared me the chooser of the human embassy to Tau Ceti and told me that I'd have a year to show them everybody on its staff. Anybody who I thought "click" while viewing made the cut. After that year, the Cetians would take that staff to Tau Ceti and allow humanity to plead our case before the Galactic Confederacy that they should take up our cause and save those left on the Earth.
Rule number four of being abducted by aliens: those who believe will be survivors.
It was a hard year. I think I lost thirty pounds from the dysentery, the constant travel, and the starvation, and it's not like I had it to lose. The world heard me, but about three quarters of it thought I was crazy or promoting a movie, so I ended up not getting all that many takers.
So here I am, having hit every continent and traveled almost every country, and I still feel guilty about all the people I couldn't save. Some practical part of me said I'd made a serious effort and there wasn't anything more that could be done by a nobody, especially a nobody that had ended up hitchhiking in Russia and suffered two weeks of dysentery. Saving over a billion people was nothing to sneeze at.
Five minutes. Not much more to do, I'd already got everybody in this bar, pretty much a last-ditch effort to save as many people as I could. I thought back to the Cetians. They had said nothing about me being safe. I could have done all this and then given up my own life. I walked into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and think. I looked up, into the mirror, and smiled as it became obvious to me what I had to do.
"But last, let me take a selfie." _Click._ |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I inched up to his lunch table, those damned words running through my head over and over.
*"Only those you photograph will live."*
It'd been one week. I'd taken pictures of all the essentials—family, pets, close friends. I'd even taken one of myself just to make sure. The guys were totally fine with it. But there was one person I didn't want to think about parting with.
So I willed myself closer to the table of rowdy teenage boys. No way in hell was I telling him about those big-headed freaks. No, I'd have to be discreet about this. Act natural.
Let's face it, he was going to die if I didn't grow a pair and do this.
Steeling my nerves, I tapped him on the shoulder, emptiness filling my chest cavity as he looked up at me.
"Hey," I smiled, waving a tiny bit. "Mind if I take your picture?"
"Why do you want to take my picture?" Of course he'd try and avoid the question.
"Well, I-I'm in the photography club," I lied. "And they told me to take some pictures of students so I thought—"
"I'd rather you didn't take my picture," he excused.
"Come on, please," I pleaded, trying not to let the desperation seep into my tone. "I think you'd look really nice and it's not like we'd be publishing them *all* or anything."
"I've already told you no," he defended, his tone hardening.
"Just this once," I urged, my grip tightening on the camera. "Let me take this damn picture and I'll leave you alone."
"Why do you want to do this so ba—"
"I don't want to lose you," I interrupted. The world seemed to fall silent as he looked up at me.
"What do you—"
"Look, I can't tell you exactly," I whispered, leaning close to him, "but just know that I have to take this picture. I'll even take some of your friends to make sure you're not lonely or anything."
"Why can't you explain this to me?" he asked. I could see the panic overtaking his normally cool countenance, even as he tried to maintain the mask of calm.
"It's... It's complicated, okay? You'll see eventually, I promise." *That is, if you actually live to see it.* | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Only those you photograph will live. You have one year."
The small and grey extraterrestrial's intergalactic real-time translator droned on about brevity and efficiency and how his alien society upheld quality over quantity in regards to the people of its society. During this monologue, Adam inspected the camera and scanned the ship's control room as it went on about how, "like you humans", there were several "sub-species" of his alien race, all of which were exterminated for the sake of upholding the pure, strong, and supreme race of... whatever-he-is. It continued on, claiming that Adam had been handpicked to decide which of his species was the strongest and who deserved to live and create a better race fit for the Intergalactic Alliance.
Adam looked to his left and spotted a small window in the ship where the Earth in all it's glory was in full view. Without breaking eye contact with the blue marble, he lifted the camera to his chest, took a candid shot of the planet and handed the camera back to the alien as the Polaroid's instant film whizzed and printed out from the bottom. "We tried that out and it didn't exactly work so well. Better luck exterminating the next planet." Adam pulled off the best look of disdain he could muster, but only accomplished to look slightly constipated as he turned around and walked away from the alien.
Full of pride and cockiness for believing he single-handedly saved the human race, Adam made his way towards the open teleporter to be beamed back to his studio apartment outside of Sacramento, California. The alien picked the film from the camera when Adam was beamed out of the ship and back home to his Dr. Who marathon. The film developed and rendered, showing a crooked and incredibly blurry shot of panels and buttons on the wall with just a small bit of the window's trim visible in the bottom-left corner of the picture.
"Eh, I couldn't be bothered anyway," the alien thought to itself as it turned off the translator and put it on a nearby table. It then took out a clipboard and scratched out Earth from a long list of planets. "I'll just tell Xandu that I couldn't find a worthy candidate out of any of them," it said as it readied the warp drive to travel back to it's home planet. | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | My photography skills sucked, they always have. Every picture was blurry or at a weird angle, some shots even managed to have my finger covering up the lens somehow. I never though photography was much of an important skill, until that day. Why they chose me out of all people, I'll never know. On a planet filled with famous photographers, cameramen, hell even vloggers would do, they chose the worst person for the job. They chose me. It's almost like they wanted us all to die...
But now it was time, and I was hoping that they would accept what I had done. I boarded the ship, the same one that landed here 365 days ago, and I handed the camera back to the aliens who had given it to me.
They stared at the camera's screen for a short time, seeing what was on the SD card, then looked back at me. "There's only one picture on here, and it's not of anyone."
"Yes it is." I said "It's a picture of everyone. It's the Earth. Everyone's there, the entire population. They're too small to see, but they're still there."
"That doesn't count!" They were quick to object.
"The only rule you gave me was that only those I photographed got to live, and I photographed everyone. You never said it had to be a clear photo of them, or even that they were supposed to be visible. We're all there, we all get to live." | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I ask "will you take me on a trip around the earth? Ive always wanted to see the earth from outer space"
The aliens agreed to take me around the earth a few times.
When we land on earth, I hand the camera back to the aliens.
Confused, they look at me, then the camera. They see i took a picture of the earth from all angles.
They ask "are you sure about this?"
With a grin I say "yes"
Everything goes black.
I forgot to take a picture of *myself* | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The aliens had told the astronaut that she had one year to to photograph everyone she could. Those would be the only ones that would survive.
"One year?" The she scoffed to herself, "I'll only need about 31 minutes."
As she circled the globe she took only two pictures. That was all she needed to save everyone on earth. | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I put my pole down in the boat. "Here are my terms." I said.
"You are not in a position to bargain," it said. And while I couldn't quite tell where the voice came from, I was able to look directly into its eye in the moonlight. Damn if I wasn't going to miss the catfish bite.
I explained my terms. "Indulge me," I said ending. "What does it matter to you and your little game anyway? Since you *know* that I'll take my own picture, you'll have to take me with you anyway." I nervously rubbed my lucky quarter in my front pocket.
"Agreed. One year." And they were off. I didn't catch shit that night.
I didn't tell a soul, *how could I*? I'd either be locked up as crazy, or locked up as captured and robbed of the camera. A Nikon digital no less! At least that's what it was supposed to be. Supposedly according to Grok, or whatever its name was, this was about a quad-bazillion pixel camera - I had insisted, part of my terms. "No crap-ass cameras... 'Nothin' but the best Clark!'"
I did take a few pictures over the year, family mostly, just to test it out mainly, but also because I knew they were watching. Part of my terms was no monitoring. But I didn't trust those bastards. And man-oh-man, they didn't skimp on the camera. You could see cousin Earl's back zits at 100 yards in a low light swamp. *Not that you'd want to*.
So finally, they were right back on time. A couple days short of a year. In no time I was on their ship, in orbit, with just the camera and the clothes on my back. I had a room, if you can call it that, where I could see the whole of the Earth through the window, just like in those old astronaut photos. Amazing. It truly does make you feel tiny. I also saw the great State of Mississippi come around a couple times. Lots of catfish down there. Damn shame. After a couple days they called me out.
"The year has expired" it said from up high. This was all some bullshit show. Granted, they did it up right. I was standing in the middle of a big circular tube with the alien weirdos sitting up and up in bleacher type things. "We upheld your terms" it said. There was some mumbling from the peanut gallery.
"How do I know that Grok?" I said.
"That is not my name. My name is unpronounceable to you," it said. "The camera."
A small tray on a pole came zooming over from the sky. I put the camera on it. After a minute a screen popped up.
"You understood our terms. Only humans in these pictures shall save the elimination. You have taken ten pictures." Ten small thumbnails of my photos popped up on the screen. The first was clearly a close up selfie of my ugly mug.
"You will be saved," it said. The thumbnail picture of me grew to to fill the screen. "The remaining pictures are composites of the whole of the the Earth. Apparently taken from our ship. We understand your desire to save the Earth. The rules were clear. persons only, not objects, including the Earth."
"Yeah," I said cutting off Mr. Tentacles. "I do appreciate you giving me the chance, and the camera. Its a hell of a piece of tech. As to those other photos you were just talking about, how about you zoom in on those, Boss." I rubbed my lucky quarter.
Next I knew I was back on the boat. I didn't catch shit that night. Thankfully though, the traffic was murder going back home that morning.
| I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I don't know why they chose me. Me. 350 pounds, pony tail, glasses wearing, acne having, neck bearded, 43 year old virgin me. I don't have any friends, that's not an exaggeration, not a single one. No family either. Dad abandoned my mom and me when I was 4, and mom over dosed when I was 17. I never had friends in school either, hell even the bullies didn't mess with me, a prime target, invisible to the world. My only out lit, my only comfort WRASTLIN'. So it still begs to question, why did the aliens chose me? Is it just a sick joke? Do they not really want the human race to be saved? Was it my "PUSSY DESTROYER" shirt?
I program from home so it's the perfect job for me and my complete lack of social skills, and it allows me to follow my one passion. Traveling all around the country following the WWF Tour. So obviously my first photos had to be taken at a match. Now I love me some of them female wrestlers, but my social awkwardness has me worried that I'll look like a perv taking pictures of them. So of course I don't. I even feel weird taking pictures of the men. What if someone wants to see them, and tries to talk to me?
Months have gone by, ten to be exact, and all I've done is taken pictures of male wrestlers, shots on shots of Brock Lesner and The Undertaker...and shit..I only have two months left to take pictures. Although only having my favorite wrestlers left in the world would be my ideal world, I know I can't let that happen. I haven't taken a picture of myself, I hate selfies, at this point I feel like I have a moral obligation not to, until I take pictures of more people.
I fret over what to do, how to approach it, my anxiety at an all time high. Then I see it, an ad for a photographer! I leapt up, this is my chance, I set up an interview, shaved, cut my hair, showered. I was going to land this job and save some lives! I don't like to boast, but I've become a really good photographer over the last year, and the alien's camera is super high quality, better than any camera you can get on earth.
I land the job!
It's for crime scenes.
I'm taking pictures of dead people. How am I going to save them? Just when I thought I was going to lose it, I meet Sally, lead detective, she's talking to me, I'm nervous, but it feels right. She ask me to take a picture of her with a particularly gruesome crime scene, I guess you have to have a sick sense of humor in this line of work. I take her picture. I save her. I'm in love. We go out for coffee after and we hit it off.
I lost my virginity. I get so wrapped up in Sally and the new job, I completely forget about saving the human race. I have two weeks left, but at this point Sally has brought me out of my cage, I'm talking to people like a normal person. I offer free photos to everyone I meet, if I can't save the entire world I can at least save my city.
I lost count of how many different people I took pictures of the last two weeks, had to be in the tens of thousands.
This is it though the final day.
The aliens are descending.
I realize I never took a picture of myself, I fumble the camera around to try and get in a quick selfie. A 9ft tall alien snatches it out of my hand, and instantly knows I didn't take a picture of myself.
He ask, "did you learn to live though?"
I smile, and think about the last two months, and reply, "Yes."
He smiles with 3 foot long teeth, turns back to his space ship and takes off. | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “How many did this one save?”
Garthok grunts, gesturing for me to give him a moment while he inputs a string of numbers into the console. He checks his work over twice. Got to be careful about these things, after all. Mass extinction is delicate work.
Garthok picks up the camera sphere and pulls out the memory tube, squinting at the display on the side. “10,124,682 pictures.”
Impressive. “That’s gotta be a new record. How many humans do you think that is?” Garthok and I have been making the rounds for a while now. Plucking one unlucky soul from their sleep chamber, shoving a camera at them, and sending them on their merry way with a timer hanging over their heads.
“Not all of them,” Garthok says, placing the camera in the decontamination chamber. We’d learned that lesson about 5,000 planets ago. They were an awful, slimy species. Dumb as rocks. Ate the camera. I’m glad we zapped them all into oblivion.
“Well, load them up. Let’s take a look.”
Garthok slides the memory tube into the console with a click and a hiss. The console takes a moment to load all those pictures. Over ten million. Damn, that must’ve been one hell of a dedicated human. I hope this one remembered to take a picture of himself. Lot of them don’t. Too stupid to think about it, maybe. Not as stupid as eating the camera, though.
Finally, the console starts loading the pictures in batches. A hundred at a time, pages and pages of them flashing before us. It’s hard to make out, most of them a blur of beige. Had this human never used a camera sphere before? The focus is terrible.
Garthok leans in closer to the console, then taps something on it. The pictures zoom in to a more visible size, flashing by in a blur.
And I begin to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, until green ooze leaks from my eyes and my muscles begin to cramp.
This human managed to take ten million pictures in a year, and each and every one of them is a close-up, out-of-focus picture of himself. | I returned home from my meeting with the aliens, not quite sure what just happened. My mind raced, wondering who I should save if anyone. I sat down at my computer with their special camera and snapped a few hundred photos before setting an alarm on my phone for 364 days from now...
364 days later...
I do a quick scroll through the hundred photos I already had; Einstein, Shakespeare, Da Vinci... Then I take a photo of
worldpopulationclock.com.
Those aliens should never have contacted a contract lawyer.
(Sorry for the lack of meat, I like to write succinctly) |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I inched up to his lunch table, those damned words running through my head over and over.
*"Only those you photograph will live."*
It'd been one week. I'd taken pictures of all the essentials—family, pets, close friends. I'd even taken one of myself just to make sure. The guys were totally fine with it. But there was one person I didn't want to think about parting with.
So I willed myself closer to the table of rowdy teenage boys. No way in hell was I telling him about those big-headed freaks. No, I'd have to be discreet about this. Act natural.
Let's face it, he was going to die if I didn't grow a pair and do this.
Steeling my nerves, I tapped him on the shoulder, emptiness filling my chest cavity as he looked up at me.
"Hey," I smiled, waving a tiny bit. "Mind if I take your picture?"
"Why do you want to take my picture?" Of course he'd try and avoid the question.
"Well, I-I'm in the photography club," I lied. "And they told me to take some pictures of students so I thought—"
"I'd rather you didn't take my picture," he excused.
"Come on, please," I pleaded, trying not to let the desperation seep into my tone. "I think you'd look really nice and it's not like we'd be publishing them *all* or anything."
"I've already told you no," he defended, his tone hardening.
"Just this once," I urged, my grip tightening on the camera. "Let me take this damn picture and I'll leave you alone."
"Why do you want to do this so ba—"
"I don't want to lose you," I interrupted. The world seemed to fall silent as he looked up at me.
"What do you—"
"Look, I can't tell you exactly," I whispered, leaning close to him, "but just know that I have to take this picture. I'll even take some of your friends to make sure you're not lonely or anything."
"Why can't you explain this to me?" he asked. I could see the panic overtaking his normally cool countenance, even as he tried to maintain the mask of calm.
"It's... It's complicated, okay? You'll see eventually, I promise." *That is, if you actually live to see it.* | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Only those you photograph will live. You have one year."
The small and grey extraterrestrial's intergalactic real-time translator droned on about brevity and efficiency and how his alien society upheld quality over quantity in regards to the people of its society. During this monologue, Adam inspected the camera and scanned the ship's control room as it went on about how, "like you humans", there were several "sub-species" of his alien race, all of which were exterminated for the sake of upholding the pure, strong, and supreme race of... whatever-he-is. It continued on, claiming that Adam had been handpicked to decide which of his species was the strongest and who deserved to live and create a better race fit for the Intergalactic Alliance.
Adam looked to his left and spotted a small window in the ship where the Earth in all it's glory was in full view. Without breaking eye contact with the blue marble, he lifted the camera to his chest, took a candid shot of the planet and handed the camera back to the alien as the Polaroid's instant film whizzed and printed out from the bottom. "We tried that out and it didn't exactly work so well. Better luck exterminating the next planet." Adam pulled off the best look of disdain he could muster, but only accomplished to look slightly constipated as he turned around and walked away from the alien.
Full of pride and cockiness for believing he single-handedly saved the human race, Adam made his way towards the open teleporter to be beamed back to his studio apartment outside of Sacramento, California. The alien picked the film from the camera when Adam was beamed out of the ship and back home to his Dr. Who marathon. The film developed and rendered, showing a crooked and incredibly blurry shot of panels and buttons on the wall with just a small bit of the window's trim visible in the bottom-left corner of the picture.
"Eh, I couldn't be bothered anyway," the alien thought to itself as it turned off the translator and put it on a nearby table. It then took out a clipboard and scratched out Earth from a long list of planets. "I'll just tell Xandu that I couldn't find a worthy candidate out of any of them," it said as it readied the warp drive to travel back to it's home planet. | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I ask "will you take me on a trip around the earth? Ive always wanted to see the earth from outer space"
The aliens agreed to take me around the earth a few times.
When we land on earth, I hand the camera back to the aliens.
Confused, they look at me, then the camera. They see i took a picture of the earth from all angles.
They ask "are you sure about this?"
With a grin I say "yes"
Everything goes black.
I forgot to take a picture of *myself* | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The aliens had told the astronaut that she had one year to to photograph everyone she could. Those would be the only ones that would survive.
"One year?" The she scoffed to herself, "I'll only need about 31 minutes."
As she circled the globe she took only two pictures. That was all she needed to save everyone on earth. | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I put my pole down in the boat. "Here are my terms." I said.
"You are not in a position to bargain," it said. And while I couldn't quite tell where the voice came from, I was able to look directly into its eye in the moonlight. Damn if I wasn't going to miss the catfish bite.
I explained my terms. "Indulge me," I said ending. "What does it matter to you and your little game anyway? Since you *know* that I'll take my own picture, you'll have to take me with you anyway." I nervously rubbed my lucky quarter in my front pocket.
"Agreed. One year." And they were off. I didn't catch shit that night.
I didn't tell a soul, *how could I*? I'd either be locked up as crazy, or locked up as captured and robbed of the camera. A Nikon digital no less! At least that's what it was supposed to be. Supposedly according to Grok, or whatever its name was, this was about a quad-bazillion pixel camera - I had insisted, part of my terms. "No crap-ass cameras... 'Nothin' but the best Clark!'"
I did take a few pictures over the year, family mostly, just to test it out mainly, but also because I knew they were watching. Part of my terms was no monitoring. But I didn't trust those bastards. And man-oh-man, they didn't skimp on the camera. You could see cousin Earl's back zits at 100 yards in a low light swamp. *Not that you'd want to*.
So finally, they were right back on time. A couple days short of a year. In no time I was on their ship, in orbit, with just the camera and the clothes on my back. I had a room, if you can call it that, where I could see the whole of the Earth through the window, just like in those old astronaut photos. Amazing. It truly does make you feel tiny. I also saw the great State of Mississippi come around a couple times. Lots of catfish down there. Damn shame. After a couple days they called me out.
"The year has expired" it said from up high. This was all some bullshit show. Granted, they did it up right. I was standing in the middle of a big circular tube with the alien weirdos sitting up and up in bleacher type things. "We upheld your terms" it said. There was some mumbling from the peanut gallery.
"How do I know that Grok?" I said.
"That is not my name. My name is unpronounceable to you," it said. "The camera."
A small tray on a pole came zooming over from the sky. I put the camera on it. After a minute a screen popped up.
"You understood our terms. Only humans in these pictures shall save the elimination. You have taken ten pictures." Ten small thumbnails of my photos popped up on the screen. The first was clearly a close up selfie of my ugly mug.
"You will be saved," it said. The thumbnail picture of me grew to to fill the screen. "The remaining pictures are composites of the whole of the the Earth. Apparently taken from our ship. We understand your desire to save the Earth. The rules were clear. persons only, not objects, including the Earth."
"Yeah," I said cutting off Mr. Tentacles. "I do appreciate you giving me the chance, and the camera. Its a hell of a piece of tech. As to those other photos you were just talking about, how about you zoom in on those, Boss." I rubbed my lucky quarter.
Next I knew I was back on the boat. I didn't catch shit that night. Thankfully though, the traffic was murder going back home that morning.
| Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I don't know why they chose me. Me. 350 pounds, pony tail, glasses wearing, acne having, neck bearded, 43 year old virgin me. I don't have any friends, that's not an exaggeration, not a single one. No family either. Dad abandoned my mom and me when I was 4, and mom over dosed when I was 17. I never had friends in school either, hell even the bullies didn't mess with me, a prime target, invisible to the world. My only out lit, my only comfort WRASTLIN'. So it still begs to question, why did the aliens chose me? Is it just a sick joke? Do they not really want the human race to be saved? Was it my "PUSSY DESTROYER" shirt?
I program from home so it's the perfect job for me and my complete lack of social skills, and it allows me to follow my one passion. Traveling all around the country following the WWF Tour. So obviously my first photos had to be taken at a match. Now I love me some of them female wrestlers, but my social awkwardness has me worried that I'll look like a perv taking pictures of them. So of course I don't. I even feel weird taking pictures of the men. What if someone wants to see them, and tries to talk to me?
Months have gone by, ten to be exact, and all I've done is taken pictures of male wrestlers, shots on shots of Brock Lesner and The Undertaker...and shit..I only have two months left to take pictures. Although only having my favorite wrestlers left in the world would be my ideal world, I know I can't let that happen. I haven't taken a picture of myself, I hate selfies, at this point I feel like I have a moral obligation not to, until I take pictures of more people.
I fret over what to do, how to approach it, my anxiety at an all time high. Then I see it, an ad for a photographer! I leapt up, this is my chance, I set up an interview, shaved, cut my hair, showered. I was going to land this job and save some lives! I don't like to boast, but I've become a really good photographer over the last year, and the alien's camera is super high quality, better than any camera you can get on earth.
I land the job!
It's for crime scenes.
I'm taking pictures of dead people. How am I going to save them? Just when I thought I was going to lose it, I meet Sally, lead detective, she's talking to me, I'm nervous, but it feels right. She ask me to take a picture of her with a particularly gruesome crime scene, I guess you have to have a sick sense of humor in this line of work. I take her picture. I save her. I'm in love. We go out for coffee after and we hit it off.
I lost my virginity. I get so wrapped up in Sally and the new job, I completely forget about saving the human race. I have two weeks left, but at this point Sally has brought me out of my cage, I'm talking to people like a normal person. I offer free photos to everyone I meet, if I can't save the entire world I can at least save my city.
I lost count of how many different people I took pictures of the last two weeks, had to be in the tens of thousands.
This is it though the final day.
The aliens are descending.
I realize I never took a picture of myself, I fumble the camera around to try and get in a quick selfie. A 9ft tall alien snatches it out of my hand, and instantly knows I didn't take a picture of myself.
He ask, "did you learn to live though?"
I smile, and think about the last two months, and reply, "Yes."
He smiles with 3 foot long teeth, turns back to his space ship and takes off. | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “How many did this one save?”
Garthok grunts, gesturing for me to give him a moment while he inputs a string of numbers into the console. He checks his work over twice. Got to be careful about these things, after all. Mass extinction is delicate work.
Garthok picks up the camera sphere and pulls out the memory tube, squinting at the display on the side. “10,124,682 pictures.”
Impressive. “That’s gotta be a new record. How many humans do you think that is?” Garthok and I have been making the rounds for a while now. Plucking one unlucky soul from their sleep chamber, shoving a camera at them, and sending them on their merry way with a timer hanging over their heads.
“Not all of them,” Garthok says, placing the camera in the decontamination chamber. We’d learned that lesson about 5,000 planets ago. They were an awful, slimy species. Dumb as rocks. Ate the camera. I’m glad we zapped them all into oblivion.
“Well, load them up. Let’s take a look.”
Garthok slides the memory tube into the console with a click and a hiss. The console takes a moment to load all those pictures. Over ten million. Damn, that must’ve been one hell of a dedicated human. I hope this one remembered to take a picture of himself. Lot of them don’t. Too stupid to think about it, maybe. Not as stupid as eating the camera, though.
Finally, the console starts loading the pictures in batches. A hundred at a time, pages and pages of them flashing before us. It’s hard to make out, most of them a blur of beige. Had this human never used a camera sphere before? The focus is terrible.
Garthok leans in closer to the console, then taps something on it. The pictures zoom in to a more visible size, flashing by in a blur.
And I begin to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, until green ooze leaks from my eyes and my muscles begin to cramp.
This human managed to take ten million pictures in a year, and each and every one of them is a close-up, out-of-focus picture of himself. | Damnit. I don't have enough time. For the last year I have been traveling as much of the world as I can, taking pictures of the most important people. It's really hard to find these people when you're on a 10,000 dollar budget (which is all your savings). I look at the clock and realize that in a couple seconds the year is up. I've done the best I could. I photographed almost 400,000 people. I finally let a deep breath knowing that I've tried my best and at least some of humanity will survive. I get up to celebrate with a beer and a slice of pizza. As I open my fridge, I freeze. I feel cold. I can't feel my body. I stumble to my coffee table and reach for the camera. No. No no no no. Please. I fall to the ground and stare in dismay at the camera.
I forgot to take a picture of myself. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Only those you photograph will live. You have one year."
The small and grey extraterrestrial's intergalactic real-time translator droned on about brevity and efficiency and how his alien society upheld quality over quantity in regards to the people of its society. During this monologue, Adam inspected the camera and scanned the ship's control room as it went on about how, "like you humans", there were several "sub-species" of his alien race, all of which were exterminated for the sake of upholding the pure, strong, and supreme race of... whatever-he-is. It continued on, claiming that Adam had been handpicked to decide which of his species was the strongest and who deserved to live and create a better race fit for the Intergalactic Alliance.
Adam looked to his left and spotted a small window in the ship where the Earth in all it's glory was in full view. Without breaking eye contact with the blue marble, he lifted the camera to his chest, took a candid shot of the planet and handed the camera back to the alien as the Polaroid's instant film whizzed and printed out from the bottom. "We tried that out and it didn't exactly work so well. Better luck exterminating the next planet." Adam pulled off the best look of disdain he could muster, but only accomplished to look slightly constipated as he turned around and walked away from the alien.
Full of pride and cockiness for believing he single-handedly saved the human race, Adam made his way towards the open teleporter to be beamed back to his studio apartment outside of Sacramento, California. The alien picked the film from the camera when Adam was beamed out of the ship and back home to his Dr. Who marathon. The film developed and rendered, showing a crooked and incredibly blurry shot of panels and buttons on the wall with just a small bit of the window's trim visible in the bottom-left corner of the picture.
"Eh, I couldn't be bothered anyway," the alien thought to itself as it turned off the translator and put it on a nearby table. It then took out a clipboard and scratched out Earth from a long list of planets. "I'll just tell Xandu that I couldn't find a worthy candidate out of any of them," it said as it readied the warp drive to travel back to it's home planet. | Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I ask "will you take me on a trip around the earth? Ive always wanted to see the earth from outer space"
The aliens agreed to take me around the earth a few times.
When we land on earth, I hand the camera back to the aliens.
Confused, they look at me, then the camera. They see i took a picture of the earth from all angles.
They ask "are you sure about this?"
With a grin I say "yes"
Everything goes black.
I forgot to take a picture of *myself* | Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I don't know why they chose me. Me. 350 pounds, pony tail, glasses wearing, acne having, neck bearded, 43 year old virgin me. I don't have any friends, that's not an exaggeration, not a single one. No family either. Dad abandoned my mom and me when I was 4, and mom over dosed when I was 17. I never had friends in school either, hell even the bullies didn't mess with me, a prime target, invisible to the world. My only out lit, my only comfort WRASTLIN'. So it still begs to question, why did the aliens chose me? Is it just a sick joke? Do they not really want the human race to be saved? Was it my "PUSSY DESTROYER" shirt?
I program from home so it's the perfect job for me and my complete lack of social skills, and it allows me to follow my one passion. Traveling all around the country following the WWF Tour. So obviously my first photos had to be taken at a match. Now I love me some of them female wrestlers, but my social awkwardness has me worried that I'll look like a perv taking pictures of them. So of course I don't. I even feel weird taking pictures of the men. What if someone wants to see them, and tries to talk to me?
Months have gone by, ten to be exact, and all I've done is taken pictures of male wrestlers, shots on shots of Brock Lesner and The Undertaker...and shit..I only have two months left to take pictures. Although only having my favorite wrestlers left in the world would be my ideal world, I know I can't let that happen. I haven't taken a picture of myself, I hate selfies, at this point I feel like I have a moral obligation not to, until I take pictures of more people.
I fret over what to do, how to approach it, my anxiety at an all time high. Then I see it, an ad for a photographer! I leapt up, this is my chance, I set up an interview, shaved, cut my hair, showered. I was going to land this job and save some lives! I don't like to boast, but I've become a really good photographer over the last year, and the alien's camera is super high quality, better than any camera you can get on earth.
I land the job!
It's for crime scenes.
I'm taking pictures of dead people. How am I going to save them? Just when I thought I was going to lose it, I meet Sally, lead detective, she's talking to me, I'm nervous, but it feels right. She ask me to take a picture of her with a particularly gruesome crime scene, I guess you have to have a sick sense of humor in this line of work. I take her picture. I save her. I'm in love. We go out for coffee after and we hit it off.
I lost my virginity. I get so wrapped up in Sally and the new job, I completely forget about saving the human race. I have two weeks left, but at this point Sally has brought me out of my cage, I'm talking to people like a normal person. I offer free photos to everyone I meet, if I can't save the entire world I can at least save my city.
I lost count of how many different people I took pictures of the last two weeks, had to be in the tens of thousands.
This is it though the final day.
The aliens are descending.
I realize I never took a picture of myself, I fumble the camera around to try and get in a quick selfie. A 9ft tall alien snatches it out of my hand, and instantly knows I didn't take a picture of myself.
He ask, "did you learn to live though?"
I smile, and think about the last two months, and reply, "Yes."
He smiles with 3 foot long teeth, turns back to his space ship and takes off. | Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “How many did this one save?”
Garthok grunts, gesturing for me to give him a moment while he inputs a string of numbers into the console. He checks his work over twice. Got to be careful about these things, after all. Mass extinction is delicate work.
Garthok picks up the camera sphere and pulls out the memory tube, squinting at the display on the side. “10,124,682 pictures.”
Impressive. “That’s gotta be a new record. How many humans do you think that is?” Garthok and I have been making the rounds for a while now. Plucking one unlucky soul from their sleep chamber, shoving a camera at them, and sending them on their merry way with a timer hanging over their heads.
“Not all of them,” Garthok says, placing the camera in the decontamination chamber. We’d learned that lesson about 5,000 planets ago. They were an awful, slimy species. Dumb as rocks. Ate the camera. I’m glad we zapped them all into oblivion.
“Well, load them up. Let’s take a look.”
Garthok slides the memory tube into the console with a click and a hiss. The console takes a moment to load all those pictures. Over ten million. Damn, that must’ve been one hell of a dedicated human. I hope this one remembered to take a picture of himself. Lot of them don’t. Too stupid to think about it, maybe. Not as stupid as eating the camera, though.
Finally, the console starts loading the pictures in batches. A hundred at a time, pages and pages of them flashing before us. It’s hard to make out, most of them a blur of beige. Had this human never used a camera sphere before? The focus is terrible.
Garthok leans in closer to the console, then taps something on it. The pictures zoom in to a more visible size, flashing by in a blur.
And I begin to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, until green ooze leaks from my eyes and my muscles begin to cramp.
This human managed to take ten million pictures in a year, and each and every one of them is a close-up, out-of-focus picture of himself. | Dwight Schrute: Simple, I invent the most high definition camera of all time. I then build a rocket to take that camera into space and position it 400 miles above the earth. I then proceed to take a picture of every part of the earth. When the aliens arrive, I then show them a picture of everyone on the planet. I save everyone, and use my new fame to become emperor of the world. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | "Only those you photograph will live. You have one year."
The small and grey extraterrestrial's intergalactic real-time translator droned on about brevity and efficiency and how his alien society upheld quality over quantity in regards to the people of its society. During this monologue, Adam inspected the camera and scanned the ship's control room as it went on about how, "like you humans", there were several "sub-species" of his alien race, all of which were exterminated for the sake of upholding the pure, strong, and supreme race of... whatever-he-is. It continued on, claiming that Adam had been handpicked to decide which of his species was the strongest and who deserved to live and create a better race fit for the Intergalactic Alliance.
Adam looked to his left and spotted a small window in the ship where the Earth in all it's glory was in full view. Without breaking eye contact with the blue marble, he lifted the camera to his chest, took a candid shot of the planet and handed the camera back to the alien as the Polaroid's instant film whizzed and printed out from the bottom. "We tried that out and it didn't exactly work so well. Better luck exterminating the next planet." Adam pulled off the best look of disdain he could muster, but only accomplished to look slightly constipated as he turned around and walked away from the alien.
Full of pride and cockiness for believing he single-handedly saved the human race, Adam made his way towards the open teleporter to be beamed back to his studio apartment outside of Sacramento, California. The alien picked the film from the camera when Adam was beamed out of the ship and back home to his Dr. Who marathon. The film developed and rendered, showing a crooked and incredibly blurry shot of panels and buttons on the wall with just a small bit of the window's trim visible in the bottom-left corner of the picture.
"Eh, I couldn't be bothered anyway," the alien thought to itself as it turned off the translator and put it on a nearby table. It then took out a clipboard and scratched out Earth from a long list of planets. "I'll just tell Xandu that I couldn't find a worthy candidate out of any of them," it said as it readied the warp drive to travel back to it's home planet. | I take a picture of the Alien as a friendly gesture the proceed to call nasa, tell them what happened. I will assume it's a digital camera since that suites my needs. Show NASA my proof, check authenticity of footage. Then give the camera to someone heading up to the ISS, have them take pictures of the whole world with it.
No one dies from Aliens. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | Brie is on the phone with her mother.
"Turn on the news! Turn on the news!" Her mother screamed into the phone.
"What?"
"The news! Turn it on!"
"What channel?"
"Any channel!"
Brie covered the speaker of her cellphone out of habit and said to her father sitting on the lazy boy, "Dad, turn on the news."
"Already on it. I can hear her from here.."
Fox News' Bill O'Reilly was sitting in a chair across from Brie's estranged boyfriend Sam. The banner underneath read, "MAN CLAIMS ALIENS WILL KILL EVERYONE".
The phone slipped Brie's hand and fell on the carpet as she covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She heard her mother yelping from the floor. She grabbed the phone in haste.
"Mom?"
"I can't believe this! I told you he was nuts!"
"Mom!"
"Stop telling people you're still dating him!"
"I am still dating him."
"You broke up with him."
"I did not! He just stopped being around. I spoke to him last week, he said he has to do this and that he promises things will return to normal!"
Brie stopped paying attention to the phone as the program began on Fox News.
Bill: "I have Samuel Conway with me tonight. And, boy, is this a duzie. The only reason why we're taking this interview is because Sam has aroused the attention of billions of people across the globe, prominent governments, and the attentions of the FBI, the CIA, and NASA, as well as other space agencies. His video with him, purportedly, hanging out with these aliens has drawn the attention of all of these agencies and hasn't, as of yet, been repudiated. (Bill turns away from the camera to Sam.) So, you're telling me, and millions of people across America, that aliens are going to kill us unless we provide them with images of ourselves?"
Sam: "That's right. Specifically to me. I have to take pictures with this camera."
Bill: (pauses, smirks while staring at the ground and looks back up at Sam) "Look you've got all these government officials fooled but we all know how incompetent these government types are. You've got the highest amount of Twitter follows, Instagram followers, and I don't doubt for a minute that they're piggybacking on your success selling this story so that they can drum up support for more government spending into ridiculous programs."
Sam: "Bill, I understand your hesitancy to believe this. I've had an impossible time getting anyone to believe this for months until I got that video."
Bill: "Let's roll the video to get anyone who hasn't seen it up to speed."
(Bill and Sam look into the camera.)
A video plays with Sam standing outside of a corn field, in front of a barn. It's his family's property in western Pennsylvania. Out of a small pond, that Sam is facing, two slimy figures emerge. They have oval heads, with big black eyes. They are gray in color with otherwise plain features. Their arms are slender, and their bodies are skeleton-like. They don't say anything in the video. They give him a camera. He gives them back a camera. On the LCD display of the camera they give him, it says, "Sam, you have six months remaining. If you're so sure that you need memory for the entire human race, here's a camera with bigger storage." They return to the pond, and the last image on the video is Sam scrolling through existing photos to find just one, an inadvertent selfie by one of the creatures.
The scene turns back to Bill and Sam.
Bill: "So these two figures are Jesus and Mohammed?"
Sam: "Yes."
Brie's Dad speaks, "why is he calling them Jesus and Mohammed?"
"Sam told me the thinks more people will believe him and send in pictures if they think it's their prophets." Brie answered while recounting how crazy she thought Sam was then, and how crazy she still thinks Sam is.
Sam: "And Yahweh."
Bill: "Yahweh? The Hebrew name for God?"
Sam: "That's right. Everyone needs to send in their pictures. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists, and everybody else."
Bill: (Bill smirks again at the floor) "Look. You can fool those knuckleheads at NASA, and the folks who have nothing better to do but browse social media, but you're not fooling me. This is like those 90's tabloid stories that always went around about some farmer getting probed outside of his barn. Your story is a cute throwback to those ridiculous days. You've had a good run but this is silly. If, and this is a big IF, if aliens came down why would they choose to interact with you? You're a law school dropout with a criminal record for partying and drunkenness."
Sam: "You know Bill. I asked myself that very same question many times--"
Bill: "You didn't ask your alien friends?"
Sam: "I know you're going to hate to hear this. But I don't think they speak English, Bill. I tried, all I got were blank stares. What I did do, was find out through some family history research that I had an uncle in NASA who did his own experiments back in the 50's. One of those involved launching a rocket into deep outer space loaded with photos and other personal heirlooms. Supposedly, this rocket really did make it into deep space, specifically into the hands of these aliens. My uncle died childless, and I'm his only descendant, so they think I'm the leader of the humans."
Bill: "You did this research?"
Sam: "I helped with the research."
Bill: "Helped?"
Sam: (Sam pauses and looks down with brows furrowed inwards.) "Well, NASA did the research and found out that his probe did make it deep into space. But it's my family!"
Bill: (Bill shakes his head for the cameras and turns back to Sam.) "Why do the aliens want to kill us?"
Sam: "I have no idea. I haven't actually communicated with them verbally. I've spoken to some scientists at NASA who think that maybe it's some sort of knee-jerk reaction by Jesus and Mohammad to new forms of life, much like our colonial ancestors when greeting new cultures. Aliens are colonials too."
Bill: "And you're the putz they have making this monumental decision?"
Sam: "Yes Bill. I'm the putz with the camera. And I don't have your picture."
Bill: (Looking away from Sam, growing visibly irritable.) "My picture is all over the Internet."
Sam: "Yes but I haven't taken it. I have to take a picture of your picture for it to count."
Bill: (Bill buries his head into his hands and then looks off camera, presumably towards his producers.) "I can't believe they're making me do this..."
Sam: "Look Bill, if you want to live past the next 6 months. I need to take your picture. I'll take it. But since you have the biggest television audience, I need you to tell everyone watching to send me in their pictures. It's your choice."
Bill: (after a pause.) "You're lucky I have good humor and I'm a good sport for the people who asked me to do this. (Bill turns to the camera.) Everyone should send in their pictures. There. Are you happy?"
Sam: "Smile for the camera Bill. (Sam raises his camera and takes Bill's pic.)
The program ends with a lukewarm sendoff from Bill.
Brie's phone starts vibrating mid-call with her mother. She looks at it. It says "Sam." She hangs up on her mother and takes Sam's call.
"Sam!"
"Brie! Did you see me?"
"Sam, what is going on?"
"I'm up to 3 billion pics! Can you believe it?"
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"I don't know but I'm going to save everyone!"
"Oh Sam. This all seems so farfetched.."
"I have to go Brie. Someone else is calling."
Sam takes a call. The caller id is blank.
"Hello?"
"Sam it's the President."
"Donald Trump?"
"Yes Sam. I'm calling to tell you how much I appreciate your service. Do you have my pic?"
"Uhh, yeah I think I have one for the whole presidential team."
"Good, that's good Sam. Keep up the good work. You have six more months, get us those pics."
"Get us the pics?"
"I mean the aliens Sam. Get the aliens those pics."
"Okay.. Yes I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're 4 billion short, time to step it up. Let's make America great again."
"Okay.. Mr. President."
Back in the oval office Donald Trump is sitting at his desk with a cadre of executives and cabinet officials around him.
"Why am I congratulating this idiot?" Donald asks.
"Sir. We've had the most successful media campaign to log the faces of people all around the world yet. Previously we've had multiple platforms registering these photos in multitude. Now we have a master database that we are close to completing."
"That's good. I think you're doing good. I'm going to give you a commendation. The Presidential Medal of Freedom."
"Sir, thank you. But I'm not a civilian. I'm the head of the NSA."
"Good, that's good."
| I take a picture of the Alien as a friendly gesture the proceed to call nasa, tell them what happened. I will assume it's a digital camera since that suites my needs. Show NASA my proof, check authenticity of footage. Then give the camera to someone heading up to the ISS, have them take pictures of the whole world with it.
No one dies from Aliens. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | I take a picture of the Alien as a friendly gesture the proceed to call nasa, tell them what happened. I will assume it's a digital camera since that suites my needs. Show NASA my proof, check authenticity of footage. Then give the camera to someone heading up to the ISS, have them take pictures of the whole world with it.
No one dies from Aliens. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | I take a picture of the Alien as a friendly gesture the proceed to call nasa, tell them what happened. I will assume it's a digital camera since that suites my needs. Show NASA my proof, check authenticity of footage. Then give the camera to someone heading up to the ISS, have them take pictures of the whole world with it.
No one dies from Aliens. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | My photography skills sucked, they always have. Every picture was blurry or at a weird angle, some shots even managed to have my finger covering up the lens somehow. I never though photography was much of an important skill, until that day. Why they chose me out of all people, I'll never know. On a planet filled with famous photographers, cameramen, hell even vloggers would do, they chose the worst person for the job. They chose me. It's almost like they wanted us all to die...
But now it was time, and I was hoping that they would accept what I had done. I boarded the ship, the same one that landed here 365 days ago, and I handed the camera back to the aliens who had given it to me.
They stared at the camera's screen for a short time, seeing what was on the SD card, then looked back at me. "There's only one picture on here, and it's not of anyone."
"Yes it is." I said "It's a picture of everyone. It's the Earth. Everyone's there, the entire population. They're too small to see, but they're still there."
"That doesn't count!" They were quick to object.
"The only rule you gave me was that only those I photographed got to live, and I photographed everyone. You never said it had to be a clear photo of them, or even that they were supposed to be visible. We're all there, we all get to live." | My eyes remained fixed upon the clock, its heavy hands ticking the moments closer and closer like the sound of footsteps down a ever dimming hallway. My hands trembled, gripping the camera tightly near my waist. I could feel my palms sweating, the subtle slipping reminding me of the power I had in my hands.
11:59...
I had taken so many photos. Children, doctors, transients and lovers. I had taken pictures of so many smiles... so much life. Joy. Every representation of what I could ever want to humanity to be. In this pursuit I had become the judge. I had spent a year deciding who would live... who would die. I was not sure what kind of creature I had become.
As the seconds ticked by, I could not convince myself to turn the camera around and take a picture of my own face.
I saw the second hand start to turn upward, drawing midnight ever closer. I smiled and set the camera down on the table. I felt so light, for the first time in a year. It was over. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | “You interested in cities or something?”
“What?” I looked up distractedly from my notepad. My brother, borrowing my computer for an assignment, had turned his attention away from the screen for a moment to look at me.
“Time lapse of New York, time lapse of Dubai...time lapse of...freaking Buenos Aires? Where even is that?” He scrolled on and on through my history, skimming the hundreds of cities I had googled. Had this been half a year ago, I'd have scowled at him. Annoying brat.
But there were more important things to worry about now.
I turned back to my notepad and continued writing. “It's the capital city of Argentina.”
He scoffed at me. “Since when do you care about, like, geography?”
“Just hurry up and give me my laptop back.” Squinting down at my pad, I tried to read the scribbles that I had written down. They were barely legible now, but there just wasnt enough time to write everything I wanted. Who did I leave out? Did I get everyone important? Did I get the lesser-appreciated people that society might still need? Should I maybe start looking up rich people ne--
My train of thought was interrupted by a hand flying into my vision. With a woosh, my notepad was gone.
“HEY--”
“You used to have really girly handwriting, what happened? You're a mess.” Flick, flick flick, he turned the notebook unceremoniously to the front page. I stood up and rushed over to him, reaching for the notebook.
“Give it back. Now.”
He squinted at the page. “One year. One camera. Every person photographed lives.”
“Come ON, please, this is serious--”
“Math scribbles. I see...7.6 billion people. 60 times 60 times 24 times 365…. ‘cut my losses’? What the fuck is this?”
My lower lip trembled. Fuck. Fuck.
“Damn, you've always been a little weirdo, but you've gone right of the deep end, huh?” He raised the notebook out of my reach and leered at me. “You dabbing in conspiracies now? You're, like...cataloging the population?”
“It doesn't matter. I'm just a weirdo.” Please don't start crying. “I'm not bothering you, so just gimmie that back and--” please don't cry “--I-I’ll go back to not bothering you. Okay?”
He looked me over--small, pitiful, pathetic--and handed me the notebook back. “Man, you take everything way too seriously. I don't care what you're up to.” He turned back to his computer, and I fought to keep from breathing too quickly.
Collecting my pencils from the desk I’d been writing at, I made my way as silently as possible to my room and shut the door. With a small heave, I lifted up my mattress and looked down at what I had hidden.
A small digital camera, plain and unassuming, with a storage capacity larger than anything ever conceived on earth. Every photo taken would ensure that all people pictured would survive. But survive what? The...entities who gave me the camera didn't explain, or couldn't. I guess these entities thought I should have as much space as possible for the entire human race. Though, I don't think they took the Internet into account.
After taking photos of myself, my family, my best friend and her family… I looked up all the famous, important people I could think of. I looked up fire departments and doctors offices, and if there were photos of them on their websites, snap. NASA engineers, snap. And I couldn't let any of my heroes be forgotten, so I snapped some pics of my favorite basketball team. (Okay, and the cheerleaders too.)
When that was done, I thought about how I could save as many people as possible. It was New Years around that time, and as I watched the ball drop to the sounds of millions of screaming people through my tv, it hit me. And so every mass shot of a city that I could take, I took. I took photos of the largest cities, cities I'd never heard of and couldn't pronounce. I tried thinking of less populated places too, to give as many people a chance as possible. I tried to have as many pictures of small villages as I did of well-known cities.
But was that enough? I know I couldn't possibly think of everything, but I wanted to make sure that whatever I could possibly think of, I thought of, and I photographed. What was the extension of these rules? Should I try saving animals too? But trying to photograph all of them would quadruple the amount of work I had to do. And what about money, would we still need that? I already had plenty of rich people in my camera, but there were probably a ton of foreign billionaires I never thought of. Should I prioritize kids?
Head swarming with thoughts, I almost didn't register that I had picked up the camera and had started scrolling through the pictures I had taken. They weren't good; the screen glare and fuzziness was evident, but they didn't need to be good. The faces didn't even have to be visible, apparently. Just as long as the person was captured by the camera…
It was kind of funny. Almost every single photo was a picture of another picture. Aside from all the internet snapshots, I met my best friend on the internet, so I just used her Facebook profile picture, and I did the same with as much of her family as I could find. It was hard for my family to get together in one place, too, so I had leafed through every photo album I could find.
There were only two pictures taken in the flesh. My brother, thinking he was funny, took a selfie with my camera. He looked so stupid, with his big floppy gums showing. His furrowed brows made him look like he was grimacing instead of smiling.
And then there was me. Small, scrawny looking. Could probably be drowned in a bucket of water. I had taken the picture as a test, to see if the camera worked. I had never thought I was much to look at, but I thought the picture seemed to place all the ugliness within me front and center.
I bit my lip, feeling tears stinging my eyes again. I switched back and forth between the two of us, at our less-than-stellar faces. Thinking that the only reason that either of us were in this camera was my familiarity with us. My best friend could at least sing, my dad at least had the best cooking, and my mom knew how to knit. In a new world, that stuff could mean something to someone.
Even though I had plenty of space...some of us weren't worth the fill in the gap.
I chose one of the images, and took a deep breath. Delete. | My eyes remained fixed upon the clock, its heavy hands ticking the moments closer and closer like the sound of footsteps down a ever dimming hallway. My hands trembled, gripping the camera tightly near my waist. I could feel my palms sweating, the subtle slipping reminding me of the power I had in my hands.
11:59...
I had taken so many photos. Children, doctors, transients and lovers. I had taken pictures of so many smiles... so much life. Joy. Every representation of what I could ever want to humanity to be. In this pursuit I had become the judge. I had spent a year deciding who would live... who would die. I was not sure what kind of creature I had become.
As the seconds ticked by, I could not convince myself to turn the camera around and take a picture of my own face.
I saw the second hand start to turn upward, drawing midnight ever closer. I smiled and set the camera down on the table. I felt so light, for the first time in a year. It was over. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I ask "will you take me on a trip around the earth? Ive always wanted to see the earth from outer space"
The aliens agreed to take me around the earth a few times.
When we land on earth, I hand the camera back to the aliens.
Confused, they look at me, then the camera. They see i took a picture of the earth from all angles.
They ask "are you sure about this?"
With a grin I say "yes"
Everything goes black.
I forgot to take a picture of *myself* | My eyes remained fixed upon the clock, its heavy hands ticking the moments closer and closer like the sound of footsteps down a ever dimming hallway. My hands trembled, gripping the camera tightly near my waist. I could feel my palms sweating, the subtle slipping reminding me of the power I had in my hands.
11:59...
I had taken so many photos. Children, doctors, transients and lovers. I had taken pictures of so many smiles... so much life. Joy. Every representation of what I could ever want to humanity to be. In this pursuit I had become the judge. I had spent a year deciding who would live... who would die. I was not sure what kind of creature I had become.
As the seconds ticked by, I could not convince myself to turn the camera around and take a picture of my own face.
I saw the second hand start to turn upward, drawing midnight ever closer. I smiled and set the camera down on the table. I felt so light, for the first time in a year. It was over. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | I shifted the pickup into park underneath a glowing streetlamp and sat there silently for a long while. I glanced into the rear view mirror for any car lights and watched the shadows of the sidewalk for any late-night joggers. My right leg bounced in nervousness and excitement. I had to keep forcing myself to stop. Today was the big day, and so much could go wrong.
*But it can't*, I reminded myself. It wouldn't. I had prepared so much. I had the bag with me. I had the photo. I had the camera.
I double checked that I had the storage locker key in my pocket. I picked up the Manila envelope sitting on the passenger seat. My thumb traced the paper lovingly for a moment, then I put it in the bag and dug out the camera, slinging the strap over my head.
I closed the truck door as quietly as I could and walked in the quiet night along a chain link fence. I had spent the last two nights slowly clipping the chain links open at a corner of the lot. Luckily no one had noticed, and I tossed through the bag before shoving my way into the storage unit lot.
I headed down two rows of units, made a right, and stopped at the seventh unit on the left. The orange metal door kept the most precious thing in the world a secret from everyone I loved: my husband, my daughter, my parents, even my online support group who should understand most of all. But I couldn't risk them locking me up in a mental ward. There was too much at stake.
Tomorrow would be one year since that day I found the camera. Something twitched in my brain when I said the word "found", but I quickly dismissed it. Best not to think about that. All I cared about is that tomorrow all the people in the pictures I took would be alive. My family, myself, my friends, good people I came across, families, those who looked strong and healthy, firefighters, nurses...
But not too many strangers. I couldn't risk taking their picture if I couldn't also get their childrens' picture. I couldn't do that to them, make them live after having lost their babies. I had to make sure I got the entire core family. I shredded any photos where I wasn't sure. I had stopped taking photos within six months. But I had one more to take. I had until tomorrow.
I unlocked and slid up the locker door. I pulled a yellow plastic object out of the bag and squeezed it. A children's night-light glowed in the shape of a yellow duck. I closed the door behind me and went to kneel beside the only object in the locker: a white box. It sat on the floor, and I rubbed my hand on the top of it as if to say hello.
I say Indian style facing it and got the camera ready. I dug items out of the bag: a plush blanket, a stuffed bear, a pacifier, a bottle, and the Manila envelope.
"Mama will get to hold you soon baby", I cooed. "Daddy will be so happy to see you again. And you have a new baby sister to meet".
I delicately pulled out a 5 x 7 picture from the envelope and laid it on the floor. I sat the duck light next to it and turned the camera setting to flash. I had almost taken a picture of him once, before. Before I had made the realization, and had tossed the camera away in absolute horror.
They hadn't said *when* they would live...
What if it was right away? What if I had taken that picture and he had woken up right then in his casket. Under the earth, alone? So I had waited, and only last week had rented a U-Haul and gone to get him from the cemetery.
I wasn't sure if he would wake up right away or at the end of the one year. But that was tomorrow so I could wait in here.
I focused the camera and took a shot of the picture of my son sitting in his carseat at only 3 days old. Then I laid the camera down, held the baby blanket to my chest, and smiled as I waited to hear him cry. | My eyes remained fixed upon the clock, its heavy hands ticking the moments closer and closer like the sound of footsteps down a ever dimming hallway. My hands trembled, gripping the camera tightly near my waist. I could feel my palms sweating, the subtle slipping reminding me of the power I had in my hands.
11:59...
I had taken so many photos. Children, doctors, transients and lovers. I had taken pictures of so many smiles... so much life. Joy. Every representation of what I could ever want to humanity to be. In this pursuit I had become the judge. I had spent a year deciding who would live... who would die. I was not sure what kind of creature I had become.
As the seconds ticked by, I could not convince myself to turn the camera around and take a picture of my own face.
I saw the second hand start to turn upward, drawing midnight ever closer. I smiled and set the camera down on the table. I felt so light, for the first time in a year. It was over. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The first thing I did of course, before Zanthor had even left was take a selfie, with him in the picture.
"There, now you get to live too." I grinned at the quadrupedal alien.
It just grunted, almost annoyed at that.
"So how much of a person do I have to get for it to count?"
It's body wobbled a little perhaps a shrug.
"One think little of this venture, had not anticipated outcome." Zanthor... Said? Was it speaking? It didn't actually have lips and the sound didn't come from my ears, more the communication part of my brain.
"Any, capture any portion of peoples you wish and they will be saved"
I nodded and grabbed the recording device quickly scurrying past it, despite being smaller and four legged Earth's gravity clearly did not agree with him.
"You may not, entry forbidden." Zanhor almost whined.
"I am just going to borrow it, take two photos of Earth and I will be right back!" I grinned as it grunted again.
| My eyes remained fixed upon the clock, its heavy hands ticking the moments closer and closer like the sound of footsteps down a ever dimming hallway. My hands trembled, gripping the camera tightly near my waist. I could feel my palms sweating, the subtle slipping reminding me of the power I had in my hands.
11:59...
I had taken so many photos. Children, doctors, transients and lovers. I had taken pictures of so many smiles... so much life. Joy. Every representation of what I could ever want to humanity to be. In this pursuit I had become the judge. I had spent a year deciding who would live... who would die. I was not sure what kind of creature I had become.
As the seconds ticked by, I could not convince myself to turn the camera around and take a picture of my own face.
I saw the second hand start to turn upward, drawing midnight ever closer. I smiled and set the camera down on the table. I felt so light, for the first time in a year. It was over. |
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | [WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year. | The aliens had told the astronaut that she had one year to to photograph everyone she could. Those would be the only ones that would survive.
"One year?" The she scoffed to herself, "I'll only need about 31 minutes."
As she circled the globe she took only two pictures. That was all she needed to save everyone on earth. | My eyes remained fixed upon the clock, its heavy hands ticking the moments closer and closer like the sound of footsteps down a ever dimming hallway. My hands trembled, gripping the camera tightly near my waist. I could feel my palms sweating, the subtle slipping reminding me of the power I had in my hands.
11:59...
I had taken so many photos. Children, doctors, transients and lovers. I had taken pictures of so many smiles... so much life. Joy. Every representation of what I could ever want to humanity to be. In this pursuit I had become the judge. I had spent a year deciding who would live... who would die. I was not sure what kind of creature I had become.
As the seconds ticked by, I could not convince myself to turn the camera around and take a picture of my own face.
I saw the second hand start to turn upward, drawing midnight ever closer. I smiled and set the camera down on the table. I felt so light, for the first time in a year. It was over. |
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