Eat The Rich

The Inter-Galactic Review Board were looking over the latest candidates for admittance into the Universal Alliance of Higher Beings. They were running somewhat behind schedule, a recent influx in intelligent life from within the Milky Way galaxy all meeting the criteria within the span of a few Millenia.

“What about these Earthlings… what do they call them? Humans? They tick most of the boxes - space flight, seeking first contact, and all that. What do we think of them?” Snarklorc rubbed his chitterlings contemplatively.

“They’re too aggressive! We couldn’t trust them, why, they can’t even maintain peace among themselves, let alone the rest of the Universe!” Chancellor Greeg banged the console with his parambula. “They’ve harnessed the atom, and look what they did with it! Blew each other to smithereens. There’s no communicating with such beings. They are too self-centered, unable to see the bigger picture.”

“Well, they are not the first younglings to struggle with this problem,” Elphalia pointed out, her ethereal image emanating as a green light from the console. “Sometimes all it takes is some gentle guidance, I don’t see the aggression as something they can control – it’s a hormonal imbalance, most likely. We shouldn’t dismiss them over this illness of theirs.”

“You think their selfishness and aggression is a disease? What if it infects others? Do you wish to see the whole Alliance destroyed?” The Chancellor blew sulphor from his proboscis in frustration.

“Well, what if we cure them before we make contact? Send down a micro-organism compatible with their species, to root out the undesirable traits?” Snarklorc perceived the auras of his committee members, watching as they came around to his idea.

“It could work… sure. Let’s give that a try then. Snarklorc, your science team will get on it right away, yes?” The Chancellor was already moving on to the next civilization. “Now… these Alpha Centaurians, what do we think of them?”

* * *

The Kitchen was bustling as the chefs prepared the feast for the Billionaire’s Inaugural Banquet. The event was somewhat of a mystery, the invitations arriving around the world in unassuming boxes, wrapped discreetly in brown paper. Inside were incredible crystal pyramids that when placed in sunlight displayed a hologram of a lush tropical island. If that didn’t pique their interest, the invitation itself surely would:-

“We cordially invite you to our private island for a week of relaxation and pleasure, away from the prying eyes of the world media. A private jet will be sent for your convenience, or if you prefer your own transportation, have your staff contact us for more details. Too busy to come yourself? Send a representative! We have hired award-winning chefs, entertainers, and much more to ensure an unforgettable vacation.”

Of course, not every Billionaire RSVPed, but at least forty planned to attend, between them responsible for almost 80% of the World’s wealth.

As the fleet of jets landed and armies of Porsches drove out to meet them, the staff at the mansion were putting the finishing touches to the ballroom. A fourteen-tier cake was the centerpiece, seeming to float upon a cloud, surrounded by ice sculptures of cherubs and dolphins. Flower garlands cascaded from the ceiling, the sweet perfume of jasmine and orange blossoms permeating the room. There was no set menu, with guests from across the globe, each chef had prepared their own menus that the guests could pick between. Not a fork was out of place, every napkin ironed and every goblet gleaming. A full orchestra was on standby to serenade the visiting elite. It was perfect.

One by one the guests arrived, inspecting their quarters and finding that it really was as luxurious as they had been promised. The island abounded with secluded beaches, wild parrots flying between the trees outside their bedroom windows. It was a good time to be a Billionaire.

The dinner was a massive success. Bill Gates sat with George Soros and Steve Mandel, discussing their hopes for climate change reversal and plans for the future. They ordered sustainable dishes and raved over the latest ‘algae-based steaks.’

In contrast, Donald Trump sat with Ken Fischer and Red Emmerson, enjoying tiger shrimps and rack of zebra, while commiserating with each other over villainous press coverage and the sad fate of Epstein. It didn’t matter where they all fell on the spectrum of wealth or political opinions – everyone had an uproariously good time.

Finally, the cake was cut. There was something for even the savory-toothed among them. A gooey chocolate mousse cake, a delicate lemon safron meringue, a wheel of fabulous white stilton with apricots. From the look of their empty plates, everyone had clearly indulged themselves.

It took a few days for the microbes to multiply within their bodies. They fed on negative emotions – greed, hate, jealousy, prejudice. In most people it passed harmlessly through their systems, eating only small amounts of anger and ignorance. To them, it was little more than a slight cold – a vague sniffle and a slight feeling of discomfort in the pit of their stomachs.

Others were not so lucky. The first victim was Charles Koch. Of course, it might have just been old age that took him down, but he seemed to just fade away over the space of a week, his eyes sunken and skin hanging loosely. He was swiftly followed by a dozen others who had attended the banquet, and that is when the rumors began circulating.

What was killing off the wealthy at such a pace? Was it the result of eating rare meats, perhaps some toxin from a shellfish?

It became known as the Curse of the Elite. Governments were decimated, their ministers and senators dying in droves. Celebrities on late-night shows looked haggard and pinched, no amount of make-up capable of hiding their rapid deterioration. Televangelists declared it was a plague sent to test us all, but they were soon confined to hospital beds themselves.

Then something really strange began to happen. People flocked to the cities, protesting outside the government buildings worldwide. Their signs held aloft declared ‘Eat The Rich!’ and “You can’t spell Billionaire without greed”.

Then Richard Branson gave away 90% of his wealth to charitable trusts. He had been looking seriously sickly for a few days beforehand, but within a week he was back on his feet and holding an interview on Fox News, begging the rich and famous to do the same.

“This disease seems to target the wealthy in particular. As soon as I signed the paperwork to release my fortune it was like a weight lifted from my chest – I could breathe properly again. Please, take heed while there’s still time. Nobody else needs to die from this!”

A few listened, following suit and swiftly ridding themselves of their stock portfolios. As it became clear the uber-rich were starting to survive the outbreak, it hit the general public. Though the poor were less likely to die from it, they still suffered sickness in areas of high crime and bad neighborhoods. Abusive partners found themselves stricken down, while their families remained fine. Racist grandparents or homophobic community leaders fell sick while the more understanding among them barely had a sniffle.

For two years the plague spread around the world. There was no hiding from it, and no cure. It seemed the only protection was to live with empathy and tolerance. Those who had recovered were changed by the experience. They became kinder, more generous, less angry. It stopped being called a plague, and became known as a blessing.

***

Chancellor Greeg was about to end the meeting when Snarklorc chittered anxiously.

“Yes? What is it, Snarky? Got something to add before we close?”

“Well, it’s the humans. I think they’re ready for us now. There’s been no war for five years. They destroyed their nuclear weaponry, and the top 1% of wealth was redistributed more evenly among the lower tiers. It seems our micro-organism worked better than we could have hoped. Crime rates are down all over their planet.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Elphalia exclaimed, her green glow brightening in delight. “I knew they were capable of change. There was no fundamental flaw, only a need for guidance.”

“We are agreed, then? Shall we set up first contact with these humans? Or would it be better to wait a while longer… in case they revert to their old ways?” The Chancellor read the room, all the auras were white and affirmative.

“Okay, then. Someone get in touch with the communications division. It’s time to invite Earth to join the Universal Alliance.”