The Geese

“Prime Minister, the Geese? You can’t be serious?” Minister MacAulay said.

“You heard me.”

“Surely we can try something else? Maybe contact the Americans?”

“No. All they will do is bring us into a war that will never end. This needs to be handled swiftly. Ruthlessly.”

“But the Geese, sir? Aren’t you worried about civilian casualties?”

“Our people know to stay out of their way. The aliens don’t. Our people will be safe.”

“But…”

“This discussion is over. Alert Commander Eyre at once.”

Minister MacAulay waddled out of the office and pulled out his cell phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he clicked on the name John Wayne and the dial tone rang in his ear.

“Lawrence, how are you my good man?” Commander Eyre asked.

“Release the Geese.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is straight from the Prime Minister himself.”

“He must be out of his mind?”

“I’m afraid he is not.”

Commander Eyre did not answer. Minister MacAulay moved the phone closer to his ear and looked at the ground.

“Wayne? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you...God have mercy on our souls.”

The phone beeped twice and the call ended. Minister MacAulay walked to the adjacent mahogany door and entered his office. His bookcases flanked him on both sides, filled to the brim with stories of war and loss. In front of him, the sun shined through the window, highlighting his pristine desk. On the desk was only a laptop and a cardboard box with a lamp sticking out. The room began to dim as cloud cover blocked the sun and he heard a sound coming from outside. He ran to his desk and looked out the window, up toward the clouds. But there were no clouds. Only geese. The grey feathered cloud turned the land into night, their choir of honks sent a shiver down his spine.

“What have we done?”