“I’m cold.”

“I know, sweetie. Don’t worry, when we get home we’ll crank up the heat and make ourselves nice and toasty, alright?”

Watching the mother and daughter approach, Hyp stood and held up his placard; ‘Energy’s not Infinite! Conserve and Preserve!’

The pair hurried past, avoiding eye-contact.

Watching them go, Hyp lowered the sign and sat back down on his patch of newspapers. It wasn’t a nice feeling, being ignored, but he was used to it by now.

Tilting his head, he gazed up at the sun shining dully in the clear blue sky. The light felt feeble and weak. So weak in fact, if he squinted he was convinced he could actually see the Dyson Pump on the solar surface; churning away, sucking up the star’s energy, beaming it down to the planet.

A persistent buzzing from his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. Reaching in, he withdrew a small communicator.

“Sir, it’s time.”

“Already? You’re sure?”

“Sector solar reserves are down to 20%. That’s the cut-off point; we all agreed.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ambassador Hyperius sighed.  “Alright, switch to Plan B.”

“Kill all the humans?”

“Kill all the humans.”