Y'all's Planet

By Jeff Worman

Originally published as "Another Man's Treasure"

Vince Membritch left the office early and headed to the edge of town to a field known by that very same name.

It was there that the ship descended meteorically from the heavens, as it did every Wednesday.

He was joined, as usual, by the Langerthal twins, Debbie and Delores; Arthur Luchessi, Mr. Lintler from Accounting and a few other familiar faces that he knew only by their familiar faces.

Suddenly he realized a distinct change in the atmosphere.

Someone new was among the group.

Someone that made Vince Membritch shudder.

Someone else to share the pie.

He offered his hand to the stranger in a gesture of what Vince often referred to at the office as "giving it his best shot."

"The name is Membritch, Vince Membritch; I'm a venture capitalist," he said, his hand extended to the new person. The shadow of his hand grew elongated and more distinct as the light of the retrorockets burned a brilliant crimson and then thunked to the ground.

Thunk.

Venture capitalist indeed.

As everyone got out their wallets, the stranger replied, "Yes, yes. We all are."

One of the Langerthal twins chattered like a squirrel, before Investo raised a mighty muscled hand and she was silent.

Investo spoke and they all listened.

"I have a deal all worked out with the Big Boys down on Bill's Planet," Investo announced.

Mr. Lintler began rubbing his hands involuntarily and quietly muttered under his larynx a garbled "Goody."

"It means of course an additional outlay on everyone's parts, however my sensors indicate a "Big Return," Investo said, the champion's voice beginning to rise.

Vince frowned at the stranger. Not sure how to take her. He had seen new ones come. He had seen them go. He just hoped she didn't have any new insights into Direction that he hadn't thought of first. He was just a million away from a Gold Star and he didn't want to lose face now. Not when he was so close.

Investo continued, "Our portfolio needs diversifiation. The transportations have become stagnant with the advent of teleportation. The bio-engineering prospects have gone south now that immortality is cheaper than bottled water. Mainstays like RoySoy and Matter Plus no longer allure me with their charm of stabilty and unbridled progression."

"Is this Y'all's Planet,?" the stranger interrupted.

"I beg your pardon," Investo turned its head, a cloud of gray gas bellowed from somewhere below. Smelled like burning wires and sulfurous methane.

"Is this Y'all's Planet,?" the stranger repeated.

Little Toby, one of the familiar faces started shaking its head, dubiously in disbelief and mouthed a silent "no." Over and over. And over again.

A murmur rose among the group and Investo once again rose a hand to regain composure.

"I am Investo."

"Cut the crap. Is this Y'all's Planet,?" the stranger again questioned.

Vince Membritch began apologizing for the newcomer until Investo closed its eye and he simmered down.

"The thing is," the stranger said, now with everyone's attention, "I've got a plan where we can all make a lot of dough."

"Investo runs the show here," Arthur Luchessi cautioned.

"Yeah. It's Wednesday," either Debbie or Delores Langerthal bubbled up.

"Go," Investo commanded.

"The future is the past. Retro this. Antique that. Everyone wants a piece of it and they're willing to pay. That's the future. But it's drying up because there's only so much of it left," the stranger explained.

Investo started picking dew jiggers off the ship's ladder apparently paying little, if any, attention.

"See," the stranger continued, "If this is Y'all's Planet, we could dig up all them garbage dumps, all them landfills and sift though the trash and you'd be surprised what you'd find."

Vince Membritch spoke on behalf of the group, as Investo kicked at the ground, its mighty hands in its mighty pockets,

"See," the stranger went on, "if this is Y'all's Planet...."

"This is Earth."

The Beginning

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