November night
"Dad! What's for dinner?" yelled Micke and Mojsan from the TV sofa.
"Seafood and fish, Monday to Sunday, fifty-three weeks a year!" their father called back from the kitchen.
Their father, you see, was the founder of Furutre Fish AB. The company's brand was built on the premise that all their farmed fish and shellfish were raised in a "completely natural environment." Well, almost.. they lived in gigantic underground tanks that simulated the ocean with 99.9% accuracy. Each tank housed different ecosystems, tailored to the specific needs of each fish and shellfish species.
Through genetic modification of the animals' brain cells, they would, at a given age, embark on a journey to a specific catch-site. This system was designed so that the creatures developed an attraction to a particular scent at a certain point in their lives and sought out its source. The location where they were harvested was the very same place emitting that scent.
This method allowed for easy harvesting of the fish. Underwater plants were gathered by robots that resembled fish and behaved so similarly that not a single fish noticed the difference. The company had achieved international breakthrough a few years prior, and he was now rich beyond measure. He was, however, stingy as a dragon, and so the family ate only free food from their artificial oceans. He lived happily with his wife and two children, far from society's endless confusion and perpetual day.
It was a still November evening; stars shone brightly across the firmament. He felt a a surge of desire to stargaze, "Tonight, I'm getting out the telescope," he said aloud to himself after dinner was cleared. No one listened to a word he said, but he didn't give a damn.
Midnight arrived. The children had fallen asleep, and the "sexual routine," as his wife called it, was concluded. Imagining being a ninja, he snuck past his snoring wife and slipped out onto the terrace. Out here, he was alone and free from the heavy worries and obligations of a rich man's daily life.
He picked up his SpaceX telescope, which bore the inscription in gold on its side: "You gave us a tool for colonizing other worlds, Elon Musk." He first aimed the telescope at Mars, then the Moon, Sirius, Draco, and finally, he spotted the Andromeda Galaxy. He dreamt, like many others, of life on other planets and wished so deeply that he might encounter extra-terrestrials and partake in their knowledge and culture.
As he revelled in his fantasies, he was suddenly enveloped by a powerful light. His heart pounded as he realized what was about to happen. With a roar, he expressed his ecstasy and his fear as he was beamed away.
His body was encased in a fluid he floated in; his senses were numb, and breathing was difficult. Panic set in. Death followed swiftly, and we can only speculate what sort of extra-terrestrial delicacy he ultimately became.
