WHAT A WASTE

It was cold on earth, the Alien decided, and wondered just how long he was going to be stranded on this backward planet. Admittedly, it was of a useful composition. In fact, he thought, it was pretty lucky that he had an adequate food source right on hand since he had no way of getting his personal spaceship to fly again.
With that, Zzypt happily engulfed some more delicious sand through his food aperture, which automatically raised his inner temperature, and melted the grains. At least I won’t starve, he thought, and slid slowly on, leaving behind him a line of puddles which bubbled and hissed a little until they cooled.

Achmed was feeling sick. Once again, Sophia, his camel, was acting up, pretending to have developed a limp so that he would make an early stop. The saddle’s dip, sway and hiccup were having an unfortunate effect on Achmed’s stomach, and he was finding it hard to ignore the uneven motion.
“Alright, alright, you cross-eyed daughter of a desert devil,” he muttered as he hauled on the reins, “have it your way.”
Sophia settled heavily, blowing triumphantly through her nostrils as Achmed staggered off her back, hand clasped to his mouth and stomach heaving. Only tremendous control stopped him ejecting the last of the figs and dates he had eaten a few hours before, and he gave Sophia a reprimanding kick as soon as he could swallow again.
“I’m going to sell you to the nearest buyer,” he threatened, but Sophia was already closing her eyes in disdain. She knew Achmed too well. “Better the devil you know,” he would mutter as he eyed the other camels in the market place, and then give Sophia a grudging pat.
Settling himself in her shadow once she had taken up her favourite resting position on the Saharan sand, Achmed tried to make himself comfortable. He wriggled and squirmed, but whichever way he turned, he felt something sharp digging into his back.
Checking that neither of Sophia’s hooves were doing the damage (which was a biological impossibility as he was resting on her side), he got crosser and crosser. Finally he got up to check the sand beneath him, and saw to his surprise the edge of a flat metallic-looking disc.
“Allah Achbar!” he exclaimed. “What is this?”
Prising the rest of the strange object from underneath Sophia, he was almost mesmerized by the amazing whirls and twirls of glowing colours that passed over its surface. In fact, within minutes of staring at the strange disc, Achmed was feeling much better; almost happy in fact.
Perhaps it fell from an aeroplane, he thought, scanning the sky as though, by some miracle, the plane was still in sight. Then he examined his prize from every angle, quite convinced that it was being operated by some hidden power source.
“No,” he said to himself, “I can’t see anything. I wonder if there are any others.”
Looking around in the gathering dusk, Achmed noticed that the sand seemed to be glowing in some places, and he hurried to investigate. With exclamations of joy, he dug another of the discs out of the sand which covered it, and then another.
“Allah be praised!” he exclaimed, falling to his knees, “we are going to be rich, rich, rich!”
Walking in ever-widening circles to check if there were any other discs, Achmed grew tired as the night grew dark. So he carefully wrapped his precious finds in his best robe to keep them safe, and tied the parcel to Sophia’s back. Then he wrapped himself in a warm blanket, and fell into a deep sleep in which a harem of beauties were all vying for his attention crying “Me! Me! I want you to pick me!” Reluctantly prying open his eyes as the sun peeped over the horizon, he thought for a while that he had dreamt the whole thing. He unfolded his robe to check, and saw that he truly had found the amazing discs. Yes, there they were, three of them, just as beautiful as they had been the night before.
“This should fetch me a plenty pounds from the tourists in the market,” he said to Sophia, holding one of them in front of her eyes. “Do you see the fascinating colours, and how they move? They’re going to love them.” Then he looked at the still recumbent camel, and announced to the empty air of the desert “That’s if this lazy devil ever gets us there!”
Without a grunt, a snort, or even a grumble, Sophia rose to her feet and started walking obediently towards the nearest town. Achmed was so surprised that he stood gaping after her, until he realised that he was going to be left behind. “Wait for me!” he called, running hurriedly after her, and he grabbed the trailing reins so that she fell to her knees, and allowed him to mount, then off she trotted, keeping up a good pace.
Achmed could hardly believe it. “Creeping camels, you are in a good mood,” he called to Sophia, and he could have sworn that she turned her head and smiled.
Fortunately, the market was very busy, so Achmed quickly made his way to the stall of Samir Zadek, a friend of his.
“I have something here that I want to sell,” Achmed told him, “Can I use your stall?”
Since business hadn’t been good over the last few days, Samir didn’t mind at all, but business is business. “And what will be my cut?” he asked, as Achmed unpacked the glowing discs.
“Five”, said Achmed.
“Ten!” said Samir, eyes wide as he looked at the whirling colours. “I have never seen anything like this before.”
“Six!” countered Achmed.
Somehow haggling didn’t seem so important anymore. “Fine!” said Samir, “where did you get them?”
Achmed put his finger along the side of his nose, with a secretive smile, and said “Come, let’s get to business.”
The glowing discs were a sensation. All other trading in the market came to a halt, and the offers came fast and furious….from the tourists … from the traders ….from everyone in sight. Achmed was hard put to decide which offer to accept. Then, a whisper ran through the crowd, and to his surprise it parted to allow a rather officious looking individual to approach.
“Who is that?” he asked Samir, who then turned to speak to one of the crowd.
“From the Government,” he hissed wide-eyed, and took up an innocuous stance.
“I hear that there are some works of art here,” the official said, too occupied with his own importance to see the discs displayed on the stall. “It is fortunate that I was visiting the market.”
Achmed puffed out his chest in pride. “Works of art? Yes, I suppose they are.” he said.
The official turned to face him, eyes gleaming hungrily. “And where do they come from?”
Achmed was taken aback. “I … er … I found them in the desert,” he stuttered.
“Aha!” exclaimed the man. “Then you do realise that they are the property of the Government. Any artefacts from the tombs are Government property.”
Achmed was astounded, and incensed. “Artefacts from the tombs? These are not from the tombs.” So saying, he grabbed one of the discs and held it up in front of the official’s face. “Does this look like it’s from the tombs?”
As he looked at the glowing ever-moving colours on the disc, the official’s face took on a rather benign look. “No, no, of course not,” he said, “but whatever you’ve been offered, I’ll double it!”
Achmed offered up a silent prayer. Thank you Allah, he thought, for the riches you have bestowed on your humble servant.

It wasn’t long before the Desert Discs, as they became known, were being displayed in Art Galleries around the globe, attracting crowds of viewers, who came to see the wondrous patterns, and stayed because they found it difficult to tear themselves away from the serene ambiance they exuded. It was whilst they were being exhibited at one of the major Art Galleries that they were featured on a worldwide magazine programme, and the spaceship that had responded to Zzypt’s emergency beam happened to tune in to the broadcast.
People everywhere were experiencing a sudden sense of calm and happiness they had never felt before as they watched, but the occupants of the ship were positively astounded.
“Strange planet this,” they said, ‘with foolish inhabitants. Why in Volta’s name would they put our waste on their walls?’
Shaking his tentacles in bewilderment, the captain set course for Arahas, glad to get away from a place that was too cold and too aggressive for beings of their class.
‘Still it’s a pity!’ sighed Zzypt, as earth disappeared from sight, ‘That sand I absorbed was delicious.’