The Useless Bugbreeders

In Short

A desperate lawyer named Jones represents an alien species known as Bugbreeders before the Space Zoning Commissioners, arguing that their home asteroid should not be eliminated. To prove his clients' worth, Jones showcases their advanced bacterial cultures, which produce foods, automatically construct massive houses, and extract gold from seawater. Unfortunately, these microbial demonstrations quickly spiral out of control, destroying public buildings and parks. Despite the chaos and eventual banishment from Earth, Jones discovers one final, astonishing biological truth that changes everything.

The Story

Jones stands before the Space Zoning Commissioners, having already lost a case involving a Weeper. Irritable and damp, the fat, thin, and bald Commissioners listen as Jones introduces his next client: an alien from Asteroid Four Thousand Seven Hundred and Twenty-Two. Known as a Bugbreeder, or more properly a Selective Culturist of Bacteria and Lesser Life, the client named Lood hops onto the witness seat like a small green snowball with large, pointed ears. Jones argues that the asteroid should be preserved because the Bugbreeders are responsible members of the Galactic Community who contribute valuable culture.

To demonstrate this, Jones presents jars of mauve fungus and bacterial food and beverages. The Commissioners taste the concoctions and find them palatable, but when pressed about medicinal values or curing diseases, Lood admits they cannot. Undeterred, Jones moves to housing, showcasing Lood's ability to produce automatic building materials. Lood pours invisible viruses and dust onto a table, which rapidly multiplies into a single brick that splits, doubles, and expands uncontrollably. The multiplying bricks break through the courtroom walls, swallow the State Library, and create an extensive maze of patios and houses before the fire department can reduce the estate to dust.

Undisheartened by the disaster, Jones tries a third line of evidence in a local park: metal extraction. Lood empties a test tube into a tank of ocean water, producing a clear sludge of metallic gold, though it unfortunately kills fish. Moving to a dry-land demonstration, Lood attempts aluminum extraction in a small hole in the grass. Instead of a controlled extraction, the ground opens up, swallowing a tree stump and a Commissioner, and melting the entire park into an immense framework of aluminum. Once again, the fire department must intervene to contain the expanding metal.

Exhausted by the destruction of the courthouse, the library, and city blocks, the Commissioners refuse the claim and banish Jones and Lood from Earth within six hours, expressing relief that they will be light-years away. As they walk toward the spaceport, Lood weeps over having nothing useful to offer humanity. However, when Jones remarks on the lack of control over their bacteria, Lood reveals that they control their bodily cells completely and never die. Realizing that Lood can teach humans how to achieve eternal life, Jones abandons his sorrow and sprints back after the departing Commissioners.

How It Unfolds

The hearing begins Jones stands before irritable Space Zoning Commissioners to defend his latest spectacular alien client. The client, an alien named Lood representing the Bugbreeders of Asteroid Four Thousand Seven Hundred and Twenty-Two, takes the witness stand to plead for his home asteroid's preservation.

Fungus and food samples Jones submits jars of bacterial and fungus cultures to prove the race's high civilization and self-sufficiency. Although the Commissioners find the food palatable, they dismiss the culture because it lacks medicinal value or disease-curing properties.

Automatic housing chaos Lood demonstrates automatic housing by pouring invisible viruses into dust that rapidly multiplies into expanding bricks. The multiplying structure quickly overruns the courtroom, destroys the State Library, and creates a massive labyrinth of houses before firefighters finally reduce the estate to dust.

Metallic extraction in the park Moving to a public park, Jones attempts to demonstrate metal extraction using bacteria and ocean water. Lood successfully yields a sparkling sludge of gold, but the process unfortunately destroys local fish and marine life.

The aluminum catastrophe A subsequent attempt at dry-land aluminum extraction causes the park ground to collapse into a vast, melting metal cage. The fire department must drill deeply to contain the expanding aluminum hazard while the Commissioners demand an end to the destruction.

Banishment and final revelation Having destroyed public infrastructure, the Commissioners officially reject the claim and banish Lood and Jones from Earth. However, as they walk away, Lood reveals that his people never die and can teach humans the secret of immortality, prompting Jones to chase after the judges with renewed hope.

The People

Jones is a hardworking, resilient space lawyer who routinely represents eccentric, spectacular alien clients before the courts. Desperate to secure a victory after losing a previous case involving a Weeper, Jones tries to prove the usefulness of his clients despite knowing they are centuries behind human advancements. He suffers property damage, gets trapped by multiplying architecture, and ultimately ends up partnering with Lood.

Lood is a Selective Culturist of Bacteria and Lesser Life, described as looking like a small green snowball with large, pointed ears. Cheerful, polite, and earnest, Lood wants to prove that his people are responsible members of the Galactic Community who offer valuable resources. However, his powerful bacterial cultures consistently lack human utility while causing massive, uncontrollable destruction to cities and parks. Despite his failures, Lood possesses a profound secret: his people achieve perfect cell replacement and never die, offering the ultimate gift of immortality.

The Space Zoning Commissioners—categorized as a fat, a thin, and a bald official—preside over the court with mounting irritation. Burdened by heat, sweat, and Jones's disruptive legal antics, they are strictly focused on practicality, congestion, and the preservation of galactic space. Unimpressed by fungal foods or hazardous building materials, they ultimately refuse the Bugbreeders' claim and banish them from Earth, seeking peace far away from the chaotic alien technology.

In Its Own Voice

Jones experiences immediate frustration with his unusual client's courtroom etiquette when Lood cheerfully greets the authorities upon taking the witness seat.

"Happy, happy to be here, I'm sure," he said.

When the Commissioners challenge the practical utility of the Bugbreeders' automatic housing project, Lood defends the overwhelming architectural results with cheerful pride.

"Most marvelous, no. Ample housing for all and sundry. Homes for peoples. Immediate occupancy. You like basic plan house, yus?"

Reflecting on his people's biological nature as they walk toward the spaceport, Lood drops a stunning biological revelation that completely shifts the stakes for humanity.

"No old. Not die. Oh, yus. Perfect cell replacement."

What It's Really About

The story explores the tension between obsolete innovation and modern societal congestion. The Bugbreeders represent a primitive scientific tier—comparable to early pioneers of penicillin or pasteurization—whose inventions arrive several hundred years too late for a crowded, developed Earth. While their biological mastery over bacteria offers solutions for housing, food, and metal, humanity has already surpassed these basic needs, rendering the aliens' gifts dangerous nuisances rather than life-saving breakthroughs. Yet, beneath the satire of bureaucratic zoning and runaway technology lies a deeper exploration of human desperation. Humanity's rejection of material abundance contrasts sharply with its ultimate, obsessive desire for what truly matters: overcoming mortality itself through biological perfection.

Why Read It Today

Readers who love classic, witty science fiction with a satirical edge will thoroughly enjoy this charming short story. Reading it feels like stepping into a brisk, humorous courtroom farce where high-stakes legal proceedings collide with slapstick alien chaos. The prose moves at a lively, confident pace, driven by witty dialogue and absurd escalations, from multiplying brick walls to melting aluminum parks.

While modern readers might notice mid-century pulp sensibilities and dated technological baselines—such as viewing basic penicillin discoveries as ancient history—these elements add to its nostalgic, whimsical charm rather than hindering the experience. What stays with you long after finishing is the delightful irony of a legal case collapsing into total catastrophe, only to pivot on a final, staggering philosophical revelation about immortality. It is a light, funny, and surprisingly profound piece of speculative fiction that rewards anyone looking for clever storytelling with a genuinely unexpected conclusion.