In the Matter Of

From: Junior Attaché for Insignificant Annoyances, Glik-Nik

To: Supreme Überlord of Galactic Proportions, Yzz-Vorax

Subject: This Earth

Submitted: Cycle: 4,728th Spin of the Great Galactic Gear Cycle

Planetary Local Time: Solar Rotation 26, Earth Year 2025

Your Excellency, The Supreme Überlord of Galactic Proportions, Yzz-Vorax the Magnificent, I, Glik-Nik, who is as insignificant comet dust beneath your thousand appendages, well remember your admonition from my swearing-in during the 4,727th Spin of the Great Galactic Gear Cycle.

At the time, as you towered over me, I was completely overwhelmed by the majestic presence of your chrome-colored, segmented torso. That you were actively threatening to squash me, while your poison-loaded mandibles were waving so close to my delicate compound eyes, the terrifying image multiplying many-fold, was only serving, I assure you, to concentrate the mind. As I recall, you said: “Boy, don’t you make yourself an annoyance, or I will crush you like the insignificant bug you are.” I believe those were your exact words, sir, as their brilliance has been emblazoned on my primitive brain.

I will admit that having just been appointed to the position of Junior Attaché for Insignificant Annoyances, incidentally, much to the joy of my mom, who’d remarked that now I’ll at least not become a drone, like my father did, well, needless to say, I was a little confused.

But I didn’t dare follow up or ask for an explanation. You might consider that the apparent gravity of Xantu IV, the terrestrial giant where trees don’t grow more than a decimeter tall and the ceremony was taking place, was such that it was quite sufficient for you to have carried out on your threat should you have decided to do so. Some might consider the bodies of several squashed failed Junior Attachés lying on the ceremonial ground, green ichor still oozing from their shells, a contributing factor as well.

It is therefore with the utmost trepidation, and with the image of those menacing mandibles as fresh in my compound eyes as if it was yesterday, and not a Spin of the Galactic Gear Cycle away, and while recognizing that my innate ability to instantly classify a million annoyances by their purported level of inconvenience is as a speck of cosmic dust to a pulsar when compared to yours, that I submit this report.

I made arrangements to leave Xantu IV for the Earth Observation Post immediately at the conclusion of the graduation ceremony, with a haste that is difficult to attribute to any specific factor, except perhaps my desire to join the ranks of those serving you, Supreme Overlord.

I dare not bore you of course with the particulars of galactic transport in steerage, which is the afforded passage for Junior Attachés, other than to perhaps suggest, with the utmost humility, that inter-species cross-education efforts on such transports should be enhanced, having lost two appendages, one irrevocably, to just such a misunderstanding with a female of the Chzz’tokk species, whose innocent request for a cup of water I mistook for an invitation to a mating ritual, as the attached three-dimensional video captures amply illustrate. It was, in any case, no hard feelings, and to my knowledge, she continued to Alpha Centauri as planned, and not to avoid serving with me at the Earth Observation Post as the transport crew may have alleged.

The rest of the journey proceeded as planned and I arrived at my assigned post without further incident. Stationed as it is under the heavy cloud cover of the gas giant they call Jupiter, where the nearby Asteroid Belt and the intense radiation, handled adequately well by our chitinous exoskeletons, despite what you may have heard otherwise, provide some measure of protection against detection by the Earthlings’ continuously advancing capabilities. I hasten to mention that the catalyzing effect that the radiation provides for appendage regrowth, should the need arise, appears to be an unexpected bonus.

I should pause here to express my admiration, Supreme Überlord, at the brilliance of the Shoemaker-Levy operation you supervised personally during Earth year 1994. Diverting the comet to crash into Jupiter was an inspired act that allowed the frequent nearby energy bursts that occur as our observer ships go in and out of hyperspace to be dismissed as simply additional collisions.

Now, if I may proceed to the meat of the matter, as some humans are known to utter, Supreme Überlord, through their primary means of air exchange, although there is some debate as to the fairness of the “primary” designation.

In my comprehensive review of the species' strengths, weaknesses, capabilities, and shortcomings, I strove for balance, focusing on the likely annoyance the species might represent to the Galactic Federation over time while staying carefully within the framework you had instructed me in so diligently.

First, I must say that while the humans' belief that they are the premier intelligent lifeform on the planet does appear to have some basis in fact, certainly in so far as technological civilization markers would require it, they have not demonstrated any biological evolution of their intelligence in what appears to be over 100,000 of their years if not longer. In point of fact, their brains have been shrinking.

It’s unclear what explains this failure in the evolutionary process. However, since most reproducing adults are limited to only a few offspring, unlike our species’ glorious thousand per hatch, evolution must necessarily slow to a crawl.

It appears that Galactic Society is simply not missing much one way or the other by not interacting with humans, although it certainly can be said that with the incessant broadcasting of their sitcoms into the galactic core, humans have not demonstrated a desire to be good neighbors.

Secondarily, while their technology remains primitive by our standards, there are some areas of concern, particularly space exploration. Led primarily by maverick individuals whose success is entirely out of proportion to the percentage of their genes in the population, though sometimes it appears not for lack of trying, they have become obsessed with terraforming the nearby planet they designate as Mars.

I struggle with explaining the level through which the success of such individuals is out of proportion, which allows them to pursue space exploration as a private enterprise. The best analogy I could come up with, Supreme Überlord, was if a mere Junior Attaché could become as wealthy as an Überlord, but without the proper breeding. You could easily see how such absurd wealth creates tension in their society. Simultaneously, however, the desire for it appears to drive their technological progress, and there is some justification for concern that it might eventually reach something of a meaningful fraction of ours.

Finally, Supreme Überlord, and most egregiously, this species has a completely irrational fear of bugs, and has gone out of its way to attempt — I am afraid to even state it for the record, given the level of rage it will unmistakably provoke — the eradication of entire species. I surely do not need to describe, in lurid details, the cruelty of the Roach Motel or Cricket Trap. But relatively recently, one of the ultra-successful individuals mentioned earlier has become practically obsessed with mosquitos, a matter I know raised mandibles back home, but that was investigated thoroughly to ensure no leaks of any kind have occurred, and our mosquito stealth drone operations continue as planned.

Nonetheless, all of these conditions, and many more too numerous to include in the main body of the report, but most assuredly listed in the 99-page appendix, have led me to recommend, Supreme Überlord of Galactic Proportions, Yzz-Vorax, with an entirely clear conscience, that corrective measures be taken.

As to the choice of such corrective measures, from an accidental stumble into a World War III scenario to a diversion of any number of available comets on standby to perhaps even the extraordinary step of a local nova, those, of course, cannot be dictated by a mere Junior Attaché for Insignificant Annoyances such as myself, and are thus to be decided upon only by the exalted, Supreme Überlord of Galactic Proportions, Yzz-Vorax, and so I await your command.

Junior Attaché for Insignificant Annoyances, Glik-Nik, did not have to wait long for an answer, as the ansible faster-than-light transmitter sprang into action, using entangled photons to light the screen exactly in the same arrangements as they were arranged on distant Xantu IV, and a new line soon appeared on the screen, glowing in pleasant violet. It gave him much to ponder:

“Return the planet to the apes”