The Financial Misadventures of MA77 and Z4V1

Z4V1 did not volunteer to be on the S.S. Hart. His brother had practically dragged him by one pointed ear onto the ship and strapped him into the squeaky blue seats headed straight for Earth. Z4V1 tried to ignore MA77’s bouncing knee as he chattered excitedly on the prospect of finding “something big” this time. Z4V1 had no idea what “something big” entailed, but he was sure he would rather be home with FRE-38, petting her floppy ears and fluffy jowls.

Captain 302 looked at the brothers and folded his hands behind his broad back. “You’re a greenie.” He locked eyes with Z4V1. “I trust you’ve gone through the training videos?”

Z4V1 did his best not to roll his eyes at the captain. “Yessir,” he said instead. In truth, every captain had forced him to watch the same video detailing the similarities between them and the humans of Earth. Supposedly, he had a gleam in his eyes that screamed “NOVICE!” If Z4V1 had to listen to one more robotic voice discussing the bipedal, mammalian and socialized nature of the Earthlings, he would—

He never got to finish his thought as the ship landed roughly on a body of water. The whole ship keened as it tipped back and forth on the waves of the ocean. MA77 didn’t wait for the ship to still before unstrapping himself from his seat and launching himself onto the beach.

The humans of XXV filed onto the sand, clad in their matching black boots, gray linen tunics and black pants adorned in six large pockets on each leg. The captain spat, “The sun sets in five hours—be back on the ship by then! We are not waiting past the time of high tide for anyone.”

MA77 dragged Z4V1 by the arm and shot off in the direction of the shambles of what once may have been a port towy Kn. “Zav, last time I was here, I found a restaurant that was almost still standing!”

Z4V1 did not particularly care, but who was he to burst his little brother’s bubble? He followed MA77 all the way to a tall stack of bricks embellished with a thin sheet of metal, which in fading paint declared, “NON TI PAGO: AUTHENTIC ITALIAN FOOD”.

“It’s a restaurant,” Z4V1 was not fluent in the languages of the Earthlings, but he recognized the word “food.” He moved the sign and immediately realized why MA77 insisted on his attendance on this trip. While Z4V1 was younger than MA77, he stood taller with limbs corded in lean but dense muscle. He sighed aloud and faced the slabs of concrete blocking the entrance. “Oh,” is all he said before meeting his brother’s glittering eyes and clearing the debris.

Despite himself, he found himself in awe that the Earthlings had used such light materials as bricks, mortar and concrete for their buildings; the winds of XXV would have blown down cities in minutes if they had used the same mediums. When Z4V1 finished making a path, MA77 rushed in, glancing up only occasionally at the frame to ensure he wouldn’t be pelted with remnant bricks.

While MA77 started pocketing samples of stainless steel and other indiscernible scraps, Z4V1 wandered towards a crumbled door, separating the room of worn tables from a room full of dented counters and charred stoves. He hated the smell of these buildings—the stench of things still rotting or molding and generally decaying. Every time he’d stepped foot on Earth, he couldn’t overcome the smell of death. He stepped over pots and pans and a skeleton trapped beneath heavy tiles. He traced over the dust settling on the cratered counters, the gray film clinging to his spidery fingers. From the other room, a piercing squeal forced his ears to flatten against his scalp. He shot a sharp look to MA77, who yielded a sheepish apology, but continued to move an ancient vending machine away from the wall.

MA77 insisted that understanding the Earthlings’ downfall could be essential to avoiding their own, but Z4V1 never cared about the Earthlings. How could a species leave their own planet so wounded and broken? Still, a wooden door yet clinging its hinges caught his attention. He pushed through gingerly and tipped his head in consideration of the room still largely intact. Sure, the carpet may have been ridden with mold spores and the glass bulbs in the ceiling popped, but a large oaken desk stood in the middle of the room strong and sturdy.

At the desk sat a skeleton, ivory arms wrapped around a metal cube. Z4V1’s nostrils flared at the odor, but he approached nonetheless, eyes trained on the cube. He pried the box from the skeleton and turned it over in his hands, the whole thing about the size of his chest. He pursed his lips and found a lip in the front—a door of some sort, he realized. A round knob seemed to guard its contents, but Z4V1 didn’t much care for locks. He popped one side of the cube off, surprised that he actually needed to invest some effort into it.

MA77 found him just as he pulled out crisp stacks of green paper and a worn black notebook. MA77 gasped and gingerly examined the stacks of paper. “Zav, you found money.” He pilfered through, muttering numbers as he counted the bills. “These are dollars! Twenty-thousand of them!”

“Money?” Z4V1 repeated, picking up the book.

“No one knows what they used it for, but we know they valued it.” MA77 peered over his brother’s shoulder as he flipped through the book. “Is that a ledger?”

Z4V1 didn’t recognize the words “money” or “ledger” but was sure MA77 would happily explain. He gave his brother a questioning look and braced himself for a lecture.

“They kept track of the money in ledgers. We think money was a limited resource and a lot of texts say it was used in bartering and making life better.” MA77 continued rambling but Z4V1 suspected that those first two statements were all that mattered. He pocketed the book and the money and glanced at his time piece. By the time MA77 finished his speculations, they had only gathered a handful of other items before the ship’s horn warned of departure. MA77 and Z4V1 jogged back to the ship and settled in to return home.

Over the next few days, while MA77 poured over the metals and woods he had collected from the restaurant, Z4V1 lavished FRE-38 with attention and petting while reviewing the so-called ledger. He also reviewed the “money” and was surprised to find that although they all looked and felt similar, the numbers in the corners were different. Some boasted the number “five”, some had “ten”—others had higher values. When MA77 appeared, Z4V1 laid out the bills and pointed to them. “What makes this one worth more than this one?” He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

MA77 reviewed the bills and shrugged. “Has the ledger revealed anything interesting?”

“They used the money for all sorts of things.” He pointed to the lines of faded handwriting. “I don’t understand all the words, but it looks like they used a lot of it on food.”

“On food,” MA77 repeated. He took a bill and considered it. “You want to try something?”

There are few things more dangerous than those words from his brother’s mouth, but Z4V1 was never the cautious sort. He nodded and watched as MA77 pulled out a frying pan. MA77 was not renown for his cooking, and Z4V1 was sure his next meal wouldn’t be enjoyable, but he still sat still and waited patiently. At the very end, when MA77 had plated their meals, he took a grater and shredded a five-dollar bill over one of the plates. Z4V1 scrunched his nose. “That can’t be right.”

MA77 shrugged and pulled out a fork-like device. They each take a bite of the dollar-less food. As Z4V1 suspected, it was less than palatable, even without paper dust. MA77 gave Z4V1 the fork and gestured to the five-dollar meal. Z4V1 slowly scooped a forkful of food and stuck it in his mouth reluctantly. He chewed slowly and scowled as he did so. “I don’t think that made any difference.”

“Maybe it needs more?” MA77 took a one-hundred-dollar bill and shredded it. “Try that.”

Z4V1 obliged, but again, felt no difference. MA77 took the fork and tried. His eyes brightened. “No! I think that’s better!” Z4V1 furrowed his brows at his brother. “I think it tastes better!” MA77 laughed and turned to the bills. “It really does make the food taste better! Z4V1 took another forkful and nearly gagged. Maybe he’s just had too much of his brother’s cooking to properly enjoy it.

“What else does it say they used the money on?” MA77 pulled the little black book towards him.

“Something called ‘college books?’” Z4V1 shrugged and pushed his plate towards MA77.

“College books?” MA77 held up a finger and ran out of the room. When he returned, he was holding two ancient textbooks. Z4V1 watched his brother take a few bills to run them over the surface of the book and then through the pages. “Whoa! I think there are more words here!”

Z4V1 was pretty confident MA77 just dusted the pages, making it more legible, but he admitted the money made a good bookmark. As MA77 and Z4V1 explored the other things the ledger claimed the Earthlings used the money for, Z4V1 watched MA77 become more and more excited with every discovery. He was unconvinced of the magic of money, but surely MA77 knew more about Earthlings than him so he kept silent and enjoyed the unadulterated joy on his brother’s face.

And maybe that was the magic, Z4V1 mused.

He doubted he would ever understand the concept of valuing paper on equal grounds as other things, but he understood one thing as MA77 danced around the living room with an armload of dollar bills.

The Earthlings must have been very strange.