The Love Machine & Other Contraptions by Nir Yaniv Page A

commercial routes to this very day.
    ~
    After that, Elijah spent his time delving into the depths of the datasheets we had received regarding “our” planet. The unmanned probe had determined a high Earth-compatibility level—about ninety-five percent. A little more oxygen, a little less nitrogen, but bacteria and plants had already been discovered before the hasty survey was completed and the probe was launched to another destination. The galaxy is full of these, of course, and so any planet that does not show clearer signs of life is abandoned to its fate until gallant and intrepid researchers such as ourselves show up.
    By the week before the landing, Elijah knew all the data, as well as the content of his toy’s operations manual, word for word. He used the VegeSchnook to ascertain the content of the crackers, the ketchup (completely a meat product by this time—Schwartz’s handiwork), the frozen food, and even us. It transpired that the device could recognize a human person, although it did take it some time—unless the victim yawned, sneezed or just breathed heavily on it, which caused it to cry out immediately.
    “Why are you checking us?” I asked. “We’re animals, I promise. It’s no use eating us.”
    “In any case, it’s two against one,” Schwartz added, practical as always. “You don’t stand a chance.”
    Elijah fixed him with a frightful stare.
    “Okay, enough,” I proclaimed. “It’s only food !”
    “Let’s see you after a month of crackers. Then you should talk.”
    “Come on,” I said, “it can’t be that bad!”
    “You wouldn’t believe,” said Elijah and threw me a dark look, “How bad it can be.”
    “You could always take food from us,” said Schwartz, surprisingly generous.
    “As opposed to some of those present,” Elijah said, “I have principles. I do not end lives.”
    “They’re not alive anymore,” said Schwartz, but his words fell on deaf ears.
    ~
    The sun of Eta Pegasi gradually grew as we approached the solar system’s plane. Eta Pegasi I is a piece of rock very close to the sun itself, in an orbit similar to that of Mercury’s around Sol. E.P. II is a bit smaller than Venus and has no atmosphere. E.P.III, on the other hand, looks like a classic globe from school days, with cloud decorations and everything. In other words—exactly the way Earth used to look, once upon a time.
    ~
    Landing day.
    Elijah woke up early in the morning so that he would have enough time to check and recheck and re-recheck his protective suit. The latter’s helmet rested, neglected, in the laundry basket, after the “security vs. comfort” argument was decided by a coin toss. Schwartz suggested we vote on who descended first, but in a burst of compassion I granted the right of way to Elijah.
    “Look at him,” I said. “Don’t you think he’s suffered enough?”
    We landed the Bummel in the center of a green plain, a bit to the north of the equatorial line. To the west, snowy-peaked mountains could be seen, to the south and east spread a threateningly thick jungle. Above us the sky was beautifully bright blue, and underneath the spaceship there was, it goes without saying, a large black pit. Schwartz mumbled something about possible damage to alien life forms, but I was more interested in those familiar to us, especially the one which was gaily prancing out of the airlock, VegeSpade in hand.
    “I don’t like this,” said Schwartz.
    “Let him wind down,” I said. “He’ll be much more amiable later.”
    This idea made Schwartz happy, and thus, encouraged, we made our way outside.
    ~
    Elijah spent the morning grazing in the pasture, pushing the VegeSplat into every hole.
    The grass reminded me of a football field, and Schwartz of boot camp. We spent a while pleasantly arguing, until Elijah’s voice on the comlink cut us off.
    “Yeeeee-haaa!” he yelled. “You’ve got to come and see this!”
    “What are you yelling about?” I said. “We’re coming, we’re