Burgs and Dogs

“Who’s cooking tonight?” The youth’s thin face waited anxiously for a reply.

An older man settled casually into a rustic leather armchair looked up from his daily and into his son’s eyes, then replied, “I am. Throwin’ some burgs and dogs on the grill.”

The lanky boy shot off through the door, yelling down the hallway, “Dad’s cooking burgs and dogs on the grill.”

Grinning, the father returned to his daily, scanning the headlines for anything of interest. Sliding his finger across the contents, a brief animation brought him to the next page where a small story, buried on 13M, caught his attention.

5 class-B carriers returning from a routine
resupply mission on Triton were found
completely empty upon inspection by the
Mars 2 station. The carriers crew and cargo
were both missing. Computer checks
reveal the carriers to have been re-
programmed for an automated route into
the Sun.

“Better make it good,” he said to himself, “It’ll probably be our last.”

This story has no comments.