“Urg?” Grak said, curious. “Wat dat?”
“Dis?” Urg said, motioning at the flickering flame on the ground. “Dis fire. It hot. It feel good when cold. It make fud tastee. But it only come when Sky Gods angry and yelling. It not work well.”
Urg walked away with his fried. “Not work good. No need to improve. Old ways best.”
Then they were stomped on my a time travelling Tyrannosaur who thought that the parable needed a definitive end. Next time, the apes would think twice about sitting next to an invisible ship while having a boring conversation.
After he stepped on the cavemen, Cemair, of the Laser Dino Time Corps, sighed. It was a sigh fraught with what sighs are usually fraught with. He was supposed to have been checking on the giant invisible space sponge (or, colloquially known as the GISS) at the edge of the solar system, the one that absorbed all transmissions heading into or out of the area. it had been placed there quite some time ago by an even more advanced race than the sauropods, and now Cemair and his kith and kin were in charge of maintaining it. Everyone knew what humans would turn out to be, and everyone really wanted to keep a lid on them for as long as possible.
They were the species that made each and every other species in the universe roll their eyes, even the creatures that didn’t have eyes.
Even though he had squashed on the primitive human beings, squashed them to death, he knew that it would make no difference to history. Time travel didn’t work that way. No matter what you did while time travelling, it would not make one single bump in the timeline.
Cemair knew that he could go back in time and kill Gortaw, the megalomanic megalodon who had killed hundreds of thousands of triceratopses, who he had blamed for climate change and a poor economy. They were taking up all the jobs that megalodons could be doing, and Gortaw saw this as wrong. The megalodon was, in the dictator’s eyes, the pinnacle species.
How did Cemair know that nothing would change? because he had personally gone back in time and killed Gortaw… and nothing happened. He watched as everyone treated the now non-existent Gortaw as if he were still there.. Everyone went through the motions with an invisible creature in their midst. An officer would talk to thin air, then respond as if he’d had a conversation. People would walk around the blank spot where Gortaw should have been.
When Cemair met the Programmer in charge of the universe’s time stream, the Programmer just shrugged. “Working as intended.” was all he said.
Cemair knew that the programmer wouldn’t admit to such a colossal glitch, but there it was. The universe was glitched.
Cemair snapped out of his recollections long enough to clean the human off of the soles of his shoes. Or, as his old partner used to say “No, that’s definitely tomato paste.”
He jumped back into his spacecraft, fully believing that he had fixed the drive. He took off, heading for the GISS in order to complete his inspection.
Unfortunately, the drive had other ideas, and Cemair found himself flying directly into a black hole.
“Fuck.” He thought. It was his last thought, and if he’d been better prepared, he might have had a better last thought, but he didn’t. Fuck was it. Not bad, all things considered. Some people don’t get last thoughts.
Well, every thinking being gets a last thought, but not many know when death is coming.
The black hole spit out Cemair’s ship. It landed in the middle of Seattle in 1961. People were gearing up towards the World’s Fair, and barely even noticed it in the middle of the fairgrounds. The ship had a set of precautions and converted into a harmless, non-technological shell. It had become just a building. Each contractor for the fair just thought the other had built this new eyesore, but really, no one had. The newly christened Space Needle had been built by space dinosaurs.
Cemair would have been pissed.