Spaceman Seymour commanded the crew of the Act to turbo-boost the flaming jets of the ship’s planetary drive. It lifted the great ship from Earth and left immediately for Alpha Centauri, four and a half light years away. They got there in time for lunch.
Spaceman Seymour atesandwiches at a picnic table placed around the gaseous fumaroles of Alpha Centauri. There was no oxygen and yet he was able to breathe freely and drink a cup of tea. Nothing ever worried him.
The mission was to find signs of intelligent life. It had to exist somewhere in the galaxy. Spaceman Seymour was prepared to go the edges of the universe to find it, and promote it to political power.
“When can we expect those who are unvaccinated to start wearing armbands?” it said. “When can we expect to see concentration camps and re-education camps? When can we start expecting to see troops on our streets rounding up people?”
Spaceman Seymour finished his sandwich. “No sign of intelligent life here,” he sighed, and stepped back onboard the great ship Act.
Party leader David Seymour and Auckland Act candidates unveil their new campaign bus "Big Pinky", in Epsom. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
TUESDAY
Spaceman Seymour woke to find the great ship Act had landed on the exoplanet Kepler-37b. Although too hot to support liquid water on its surface, he wandered barefoot, and drank from a thermos of soup.
“He is impervious to all harm,” whispered the crew.
“Darren Gilchrist,” replied the resident of Kepler-37b.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Well over 40 drownings this summer so far,” it said. “Given the jab side effects of myocarditis/heart attacks, and blood clotting, I’m thinking there is a likely link to jabs.”
Spaceman Seymour sighed, and stepped back onboard the great ship Act.
WEDNESDAY
Spaceman Seymour asked, “Name?”
“Anto Coates,” said the resident of dwarf planet 225088 Gonggong.
“Thoughts?”
“Jabcinda!”
The great ship Act was outta there.
THURSDAY
Spaceman Seymour stayed on board the great ship Act while the crew dredged up something called Scott Boness. He took one look at it and said to the crew, “Are you kidding me?”
FRIDAY
Spaceman Seymour returned to Earth. Media wanted to quiz him about the candidates and why Act was only attracting the very dregs of the galaxy, and how that would play out if the great ship came to power in the Parliament of the Universe, but he dodged their questions with a bilious, stupid look on his face and retired to his Epsom basement.
The milk had gone off. The biscuits were stale. He lay in the dark and thought of his crew – their loyalty touched him, their faith in his leadership. They included some very fine candidates. Brooke was smart. And … and … he couldn’t quite remember their names, but remembered one or two faces, like the candidate with two heads they had picked up from a death star. So far it hadn’t said anything. That was enough to pass muster.
Spaceman Seymour parted the curtains and looked up at the night sky.
