© Cosmic Mosquitoes
The ‘Mosquito’ was ready to launch; awaiting only the final sequence that would send the last spacecraft hurtling through the now mostly polluted atmosphere and out of the Earth’s gravitational pull. The year was AD 2085. The crew were comprised of the best minds and most physically perfect specimens that humanity had left. The idea was to ensure that a remnant of humanity would survive the anticipated cataclysm and return to Earth at an undetermined time in the future. The acidic rain had finally relented after pouring down unremittingly for around three weeks. However, further heavy falls were anticipated within 24 hours – this was their last opportunity before the monsoon season started.
Whilst all care had been taken, the reality was that some contractors had still cut corners in the supply of components to the project. Consequently, at T minus 20 seconds, an alarm showed up on the DUD (digital universal device) of an anxious manager in the control room at Cape Canaveral. The launch sequence was immediately postponed and a technician was despatched hurriedly to the launch site. Normally any technician entering the spacecraft would need to be attired in full protective, sterile, gear so as to ensure that no contaminant compromised the atmosphere of the vehicle. Such was the urgency of the mission, that the quality control section was instructed to give only the bare minimum of scrutiny to the technician. Consequently, no-one noticed that two or three mosquitoes were clinging to the man’s overalls.
The fault (a minor section of printed circuitry in the communications system) was quickly replaced. The technician wondered idly why it was necessary that the whole project be held up for such a minor problem that could have been easily rectified by the crew at a later time. Meanwhile two of the mosquitoes took refuge in the warmth of an air filtering duct. The technician quickly vacated the craft and the launch sequence began anew. This time there was no hold-up and the launch sequence proceeded to its inevitable conclusion. Lift-off!
Climate change, global warming and the resultant struggle for control of the Earth’s dwindling resources, fresh water and arable land decimated the planet; leading to anarchy. The planet’s population descended into warring tribal factions. Contact with the ‘Mosquito’ was lost around 50 years later and all but forgotten. Thousands of years passed...
The story of the launch of the ‘Mosquito’ entered the realm of myth and its eventual return became entwined with other stories and legends of the return of a messiah. In story and song, even the names became interspersed as ‘The Mosquiah’. These stories were handed down from one generation to the next. In 4550 or thereabouts, a strange craft materialised on the shore of the Simpson Sea. The local tribe approached the craft cautiously. In appearance, they were similar to the Aboriginal tribes that had inhabited the area many millennia before. The legend -‘MØЅΩÜÏŦΦ’ appeared on the side of the craft, together with what appeared to be a depiction of a six-legged insect.
An opening appeared in the side of the craft and a being the height of a man stepped into the bright sunshine. It stood upright on two legs and appeared to have four arms, and rudimentary wings. The head was almost human in appearance. The only difference was that the large compound eyes dominated the face and had the ability to view a very large angle, detect fast movement and the polarisation of light. Two or three members of the tribe dropped to their knees and began chanting: ‘Mosquiah has come, Mosquiah has come...’
The alien being looked bemused. He or she lifted one of its arms/tentacles and directed it at the chanters. There was a flash of light and an energy beam flew from the outstretched limb, incinerating the nearest person to a fine ash within seconds. The air was filled with an acrid smell and there was a sound not unlike that of an insect hitting an electronic Bug Zapper in a food shop. The bug had travelled far; it was now time to reclaim the Earth.