Fans of Chinese sci-fi may recognize the name Cixin Liu, the Hugo award-winning author of the short story that inspired this manga. The 2019 theatrical adaptation of his novel The Wandering Earth broke records as the highest-domestic-grossing Chinese movie of all time. Netflix snapped up the international streaming rights. Game of Thrones show-runners David Benioff and D. B. Weiss are currently working on a mega-budget English-language TV adaptation of his novel The Three-Body Problem. He's an author whose star is rising, and to my knowledge, this manga is the first time this particular Liu story has been translated into English in any form.

The idea of first contact between humanity and an enormously powerful spacefaring alien civilization has been a fertile one for popular sci-fi over the years. Although I'm not old enough to have watched the seminal TV miniseries V on its initial 1983 broadcast, its repeat showing in the late 1990s influenced my adolescent self. Along with Arthur C. Clark's famous 1953 novel Childhood's End, Taking Care of God shares similar tropes and concepts. An unsuspecting world must suddenly consider its place in the universe, and are the harbingers of this change benign or malevolent?

Our main point-of-view character is semi-feral, seemingly electively mute, second grader Zhihan, who lives in a small village with her mother and grandmother while her father works far away. Zhihan's preferred mode of interpersonal problem-solving is gremlin-style extreme violence, followed by running away at top speed. She's funny, wide-eyed, and prone to making bad decisions, like climbing a dead tree overhanging a deep ravine to retrieve a weird doll or launching a rock at the head of a strange elderly gentleman who might be an omnipotent alien god.

When The Progenitors arrive en masse, they strike a deal with Earth's governments – in exchange for the tremendous technology powering their starships, they wish to be looked after in their old age. The Progenitors built Earth as their retirement home, with humanity as ready-made family members to care for them in their dotage. Individual household family units are financially enticed with huge subsidies to welcome one or more Progenitors into their house, and many jump at the chance to earn extra cash, except Zhihan's poor family, who treat The Progenitors with suspicion.

Eventually, Zhihan's grandmother relents and allows an elderly male Progenitor – the one whom Zhihan threw a rock at during their first meeting – to share their home. Neither Zhihan nor her stressed, overworked mother is thrilled at the prospect, but with time, they learn to integrate their new, weird uncle into their family. He reminds me of ancient world-builder Slartibartfast from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

While The Progenitors initially settle well into their new roles as foster grandparents, aunts, or uncles, the money eventually runs out, and the story becomes darker. Progenitors are forcibly rounded up into government vehicles and shipped off to sites unknown. News reports discuss increased incidences of elder abuse, and certain governments suggest mass executions to rid themselves of the excess population.

Taking Care of God examines how human beings treat each other: first when offered an incentive to care and then when the incentive is removed. Many human individuals are suspicious of the new arrivals, perhaps understandably, but there's an ugly undercurrent of racism and xenophobia inherent in some reactions. Overall, most of the characters we spend time with are simply human beings who grow to love and respect one another. The Progenitors aren't bad people, nor are most of the families who become attached to them. Zhihan's friends fight desperately to stop the government from taking their beloved "Grandmas" away.

Zhihan regrets her childish outbursts of violence when she learns, with horror, the consequences of her thoughtless actions. Her only words in the story are to cry in heartfelt apology in a powerful and affecting scene. Despite her lack of vocalizations for most of the story, her body language and facial expressions communicate her thoughts well – except for those scenes when she's deliberately obtuse.

Across our world today, developed nations face the stark realities of rapidly aging populations, a demographic time-bomb that, in countries as diverse as Japan and the UK, already causes economic uncertainty. What will we do when the aged and infirm outnumber the healthy workforce? Do we encourage immigration from other countries? Do we provide incentives for younger people to have more babies? Fiction has suggested even darker possibilities, like in Katsuhiro Ōtomo's Roujin Z, where they locked the elderly away in soulless mechanized hospital beds or resorted to even less savory options like Logan's Run's compelled euthanasia.

Like the best science fiction, Taking Care of God posits an absurd situation to illuminate our present or near future. Will we react unthinkingly, with fear, like Zhihan at the story's beginning, or will we learn humility and patience, aiming for higher ideals? Liu doesn't offer definitive answers, with an ending that resolves the problem without input from Earth's people, but at least he's asking the right questions, and I'd love to read more of his work adapted with such care and enthusiasm.