An Acquired Taste
Far in the future ...
Jane sat in her grandfather's room at the robotically assisted nursing domicile while he laid in bed, and she looked through the window.
"Grandpa, the sun's dimming, again."
"Yes, I noticed that too, and I've been called."
"Oh, no!" Jane teared up. "That's so unfair!"
"It's my time, Jane. Yours will come in many decades. Live your life to the fullest."
"I still don't understand it all."
"Well, Jane, long ago, once they dismantled the Space Force with the rest of the world's militaries, it was bound to happen."
"But Grandpa, we saved trillions of dollars! Everyone on Earth has food, healthcare, housing, and education ... There's no more homelessness, no more poverty, and rarely any serious crime."
"Yes, Jane, I know the mantra—‘Human Dignity First, Anything Else Comes Second’—but ironically, that came to us at a steep price because of a complete lack of foresight."
"But Grandpa, the Global Council had no idea the Esikilians would arrive. Threatening to dim our sun entirely with that solar filter of theirs if we don't give in to their demands."
"I know that ..." Grandpa grabbed his holotablet off a bedside table. "But it was still shortsighted of this one-world government never to expect first contact. Many of our top scientists, both past and present, warned us that it'd lead to disaster. After all, we did the same thing to our own people here on Earth through colonization and exploitation."
"At least they only want our old ..." She covered her mouth. "Oops! What I meant to say is ..."
Grandpa waved his hand and smiled—"No worries."
"But why our seniors, and why at age 70?" Jane gazed at the darkening sky. "And why threaten to block our sunlight?"
"Funny you ask those questions. I was just about to show you a science article on that very subject." Grandpa turned on the holotablet. "Some scientists believe it's purely cultural. For the Eseklians, they might have sacrificed their own elders for experimentation, progress, or ..."
Jane interrupted—"But for what reason, Grandpa?"
"Well ..." Grandpa projected the article, spun it around, and highlighted a section. "The article mentions right here at their possible attempts at consciousness transcendence for space travel, or ..."
"Or what ...?" Jane stood up and gestured for the holoprojection to zoom-in.
"Well, Jane, there's only one way for a generation ship to survive in deep space between solar systems, and at such far distances, and to maintain a population limit—especially if the groceries run out." He winked. "If you know what I mean ... Perhaps they've developed an acquired taste."
Jane stared straight at him, blank and expressionless.