An Office With A View

An original comedy science fiction short story

When you have woken up at 5 am every single day for the past 13 years, you do not expect your streak to be broken by your wife shrieking and a nauseating green light knocking at your door at 4:05 am. Unbeknownst to him, the planetary shift that occurred in the early hours of the 19th of November was just the beginning of the end for Delon Bigger’s routines.

Humans are creatures of habit. This fact had not escaped the detail-oriented authors of The Federation's Earth handbook, but even their boundless knowledge could not have envisioned that it would end up buried under the countless examples of humanity's violent tendencies. This would not have proven to be an issue if it weren't for The Federation's diplomatic delegation’s recent dealings in Mars. Leaving a brick-red galaxy staple with crimson splatters of failure had put The Federation's top officials on edge. They needed a memorable win, and a clean one at that.

After an analysis of Earth’s curious societal structures, The Federation’s outreach team landed on the best candidate for first contact: Mr. Delon Bigger. Wielding immense power thanks to his top-ranking net worth and social influence, but also technologically savvy and having displayed a neutral-to-favorable perception of interplanetary beings, approaching him was the ideal course of action —  by Earth standards, of course. They then brought in a handful of Crockleburrian consultants to confirm this and to help them identify the optimal time for engagement. 

7 diplomats -  3 individuals from Psquartle, home to The Federation's headquarters, and 4 individuals from Crockleburr - left the citadel at the crack of dawn with one-track minds focused on one mission: engage a top human official to request Earth become a member of The Federation without making their presence known to other humans. Their prolific technology and devoted studying of Mr. Bigger’s simple, repetitive habits meant the probability of achieving imperceptibility was incredibly high – but human volatility meant the probability of overall success was hard to determine.

Late in the morning of the 10th of November clouds suppressed the staunch sunlight that had kept the complex's grounds bright and inviting. Most employees returned to their preferred indoor spaces to enjoy the remainder of their break, but Delon's footsteps didn't miss a beat. Humans were but animals with more intricate rituals, and Delon thought himself the king of the jungle. Even if Los Angeles was cold and gloomy, the lion would not falter.

When he turned right on the statue, he expected to encounter the old chestnut tree his father had planted long before he was even in the books. Instead, he was met by the tree, an odd looking vehicle, and a group of mismatched individuals with ear-to-ear smiles stuck uncomfortably on their faces. Confusion was not something a proud man like Bigger enjoyed — and yet, it was inevitable for him to question if this was some rival’s vengeance, a sudden daydream, or a holy apparition showing him his destiny. 

What in the - A small yet pronounced quantity of urine trickled down his leg. The initial warm sensation and the prolonged, continued chills it later sent through his body were evidence enough that he wasn’t dreaming. Of course they'd come to me of all people. If they're as intelligent as they claim, they'd go to the smartest and most powerful, the man with big shoes to fill and even bigger dreams. Me. His left hand slid into his pocket, wrapped around his phone, and pressed the buttons that would place an emergency call lightly...
...but you never know with these things. It's like dad used to say - you never skip out on an opportunity, but you always have to look out for yourself first. 
Something like that.

It didn't take long for the conflict conscious, politically trained aliens to get on Mr. Bigger’s good side. Upon winning him over with no compliment or demonstration of advanced technology spared, he invoked his CEO and chairman privileges and canceled his meetings for the following two hours — his assistant was trained to handle anything that came up anyways. 

The formal discussion regarding Earth’s role in The Federation’s plans was done in an hour, but Delon insisted on showing them his parks to celebrate sealing the deal afterwards.The outing concluded with an hour-long spaceship ride through the Milky way, where Mr. Bigger told the delegation all about the fabulous world of business and entertainment. 

Tired but relieved, the delegation headed back with their holographic recording of the interaction and their copies of all the documents read and signed by the human official. When they arrived at Psquartle's indigo sky, they were met with stardust dotted signs commending them for a job well done.

A Psquartlan week later, the citadel bid farewell to The Federation's interplanetary welcome team. This time, they would be meeting plenty more of Earth's top officials in a special conference. They looked forward to discovering more of Earth's hidden gems.

The knowledgeable, skillful aliens had known the sour feeling of failure - but it wasn't until they crashed the UN world peace summit and their greetings were answered by screams of horror that they learnt what humiliation felt like. As the team scrambled to de-escalate the chaos and explain that the humans were partially right in how they had portrayed them because they did, in fact, come in peace, the 7 members of the original delegation boarded a smaller space craft and left for Los Angeles. They were desperate, angry, and in need for answers.

- 

YOU LIED TO US, DELON. 

yOU SET US UP FOR FAILURE. tHE fEDERATION DOES NOT APPRECIATE IT.

He was sitting up half asleep on the edge of the bed, waiting for them to shut up – but their reproachful voices lingered like a persistent hungover on a long workday. 

“Delegates: you’re falling prey to the sunk cost fallacy. You have to look at this setback as an opportunity to reframe and”

pRETTY WORDS WON'T GET YOU OUT OF THIS ONE, dELON. wE'VE READ EVERYTHING ON YOUR tWITTER.

“But then you should know I did inform the world about your arrival.”

One of the five aliens who had elected to take a supporting role in this confrontation pulled out a slick, silver box and projected an image of the tweet in question in the space between them. 

tHAT'S NOT WHAT YOU AGREED TO DO. 

WHY DIDN’T YOU COMPLY, DELON? 

“What?"

wE DISCUSSED IT. wE GAVE YOU THE FILES. yOU SIGNED OFF ON ALL OF IT. 

“Right. That…See, being one of the most powerful men in the world means I'm also one of the busiest. I sign tons of paperwork and I miss things sometimes when a big project is on the horizon and I'm just, really looking forward to that, you know? I must’ve missed some steps but guys, it's not the end of the world! I’m Delon Bigger! I’m one of the most powerful men in the world! I’m sure we can reframe and find a quick, easy fix and we’ll laugh about this one day.” 

WE'RE SICK OF YOUR ROTTEN BANANAS, YOU IGNORANT DIRT DWELLER. WE'RE BRINGING YOU TO THE UN SO YOU CAN EXPLAIN THIS MISUNDERSTANDING TO THE ACTUAL EARTH LEADERS AND FIX THE MESS YOU MADE.

- 

It was no easy undertaking, but if there was something Delon was good at it was drawing attention to himself. His loud exhibitions of self-praise and attempts to minimize his oversight significantly helped the two vastly different species clear the air and find common ground. Though it hadn’t been a casualty-free affair as desired, The Federation and the attendees of the UN world peace summit finally settled on blaming humanity’s violent tendencies for the sake of continued stability and future collaboration. 

After an extensive discussion, the interplanetary welcome team returned home with reassurances, new contracts in place, and Earth an official member of The Federation. While everyone else was celebrating the novel alliance, Delon was returning to his LA home ghost-faced— his private jet morphing into a truck taking cattle to the slaughterhouse before his very eyes. 

The first handful of days after he got back he didn’t leave his office. The junior employees sneaked photos of this puffy, eye bag-marked caricature of the seemingly invincible man many had grown to despise. After a week, his wife Karina dragged him out of the office and brought him home. It was one thing to tolerate his inflated ego and mitigate the damage done by his self-aggrandizing shenanigans, it was another to have to deal with this public spectacle of self-pity for which he alone was to blame. 

On the eighth day after the incident, he still relied on an alarm to wake up but he managed to sleep peacefully through the night and even came up with something to tweet while watching the show Karina had picked out. Though the threat of retribution remained, hanging ominously over his head, Delon felt like he was finally approaching normalcy.

He was not quite back to his usual habits the following day, but his mood was chipper, brighter — certainly having benefited from a good night’s sleep and a thorough shower. Fear quickly clouded his expression, however, upon seeing two secret service agents by his office door and the unequivocally foreign builds of two aliens standing across from the president of the United States. 

With his hands in his pockets and leaning back - a trick his father had taught him to project confidence - he carefully walked into the room. As his presence forced the conversation to stumble and fizzle out, he noticed that these were aliens he had never seen before, and that everyone in the room seemed awfully calm and upbeat. He then recalled that Karina had told him that if they ever made good on their word, he should apologize profusely if he wanted to get off scot-free — but she wasn’t one of the richest or most politically prominent men in the world. There was no possible way she understood their power dynamics and rules better than he did. 

His salute and polite questions about a tour of the grounds were met graciously by all parties, convincing him that his charm was working its usual magic. After showing them every revolutionary architectural feat and proud family artifact he could think of, they settled down in his office for The Serious Conversation. 

Mr. Bigger, your mishap could have had serious consequences for humanity. You have been made aware of that. 

“Yes, Mr. President.”

We had to decide what to do about you.

DON’T WORRY, DELON. THE FEDERATION IS A PEACEFUL ORGANIZATION. AS ITS LEADER, MY TOP PRIORITY ISN’T TO HURT YOU, BUT RATHER TO CARRY OUT THE MISSION OF PRESERVING UNIVERSAL PEACE. 

The president and the alien who had just spoken brought forth another alien who had remained silent for the majority of the morning. 

Delon, this is Kachu Psqu IV. When Mr. Psqu retires to Senior Counsel, he will step into the role of Head of Top Officials of The Federation's Council. 

Delon tried to work out how this had anything to do with him. 

IT WILL BE A DECADES LONG WHILE UNTIL I STEP DOWN FROM MY ROLE. IT WILL ALSO TAKE  MUCH TRAINING UNTIL KACHU IS READY TO LEAD THE FEDERATION. 

 In an earlier conversation, Mr. Psqu told me that Kachu has always favored artistic endeavors, and that more recently, he has taken a liking for your animation company, so we thought

“I can make him the manager of that with just a call. No problem. I’d love to have him on the exec team.”

WE WERE THINKING A MORE PROMINENT LEADERSHIP ROLE WOULD BE MORE SUITABLE FOR HIM. CHIEF EXECUTIVE AND CHAIRMAN OF YOUR CORPORATION. 

“Excuse me…wha…he must be a very talented young…this is my company. Not just anyone can run it, and…and, investors would not be happy if you sacked me all of a sudden for some individual that…isn’t even a human being.”

Which is why you'd stay on, as his assistant. You will ensure his success. 

AND ALSO, STEPPING DOWN FROM THE CEO ROLE WOULD GIVE YOU EXTRA TIME TO WORK ON THIS NEW SHOW THAT KACHU CAME UP WITH! 

“You…can’t just do this”

Mr. Psqu and the president’s stern looks fell on him like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, the youngling stepped forward and raised his gaze from the ground.

Hey Delon, I know this is all so sudden and that you’re probably scared, but I’ll show you I am a genius. Everyone has big expectations for me, but I always say that I have bigger plans than they could possibly imagine. Did you catch that? BIGGER plans!

The knot in the bottom of Delon’s throat sank to the pit of his stomach. Mr. Psqu embraced his son with a smile, then sent him off to grab his things to decorate his new office.