Writing speculative fiction in digital longhand.
The Sekulby have come. Stories of their culture have been faint echoes within Bennu since my arrival. The massive agglomerative ship is like a planet closing in on the station, or more accurately, like the station is being sucked into some haphazard planet's gravitational pull. My awe quickly turned to disappointment. Everything I knew about the egalitarian society and their moral fastidiousness…
I didn't ask to be here. Not on Bennu, which I chose, but existing in this universe at all. And I didn't want to constantly crave purpose, but I do, and it comes with the unadvertised requirement that I must make my own meaning. It's a tough ask, at least for the life of the somewhat examined. I completely understand falling back on pre-made solutions and meanings. A soul needs an analgesic after…
I caught a ride to Slippashep. Shah agreed to my unplanned vacation with no hesitancy, like he was expecting it. Every interaction I have is just one emotional abstraction weaved into another around a secret core truth, and maybe that seal isn't as tight as I hoped. The planet is only two days travel, but it wiped me out more than I expected. The captain who allowed my passage, Akkina, was on a…
I can stare out this window for hours. I'm not even looking at anything. The stars and occasional propulsion jet are the perfect backdrop for thinking and the occasional good idea. I'm supposed to be working, but when the big ships dock, I like to lean my head against the window supports and feel the vibrations that would otherwise go unnoticed flow through me. I am the warm recirculated air of…
The shouts were getting louder. Footsteps crunching on gravel between trailers. They would find Gerty soon. She was in the back of General Stores, where a couch had been surplussed for coffee breaks. The building was otherwise empty. Judy and Emma had both made themselves scarce on account of the current testing; undoubtedly they were holed up somewhere enjoying Judy's baking. Twice on the lips,…
Tan uniform. A body that would have fit it comfortably two years ago. The optimistic hubris of the day's test subject. Carl---a middle-manager that Gerty hoped to never see again. His last name already forgotten, even though it was at the top of the form she was prompting him to sign. Even James, her supervisor, couldn't fully suppress his amusement as he listened to Carl recite his…
Gerty surveyed the client. Military haircut and uniform. A smug smile even though he was just reviewing the waiver he was required to sign. High ranking; her superior on paper, though she had never seen him before. Obviously used to getting what he wanted---formalities and legalities small nuisances that he tolerated. It made him the perfect subject. The type of human most likely to take full…
Gerty took a detour through the medical tent on her way to the latest test of the escapement mechanism. The stretched canvas shelter was only about one-third full, and though it was a temporary building, to her it had become a permanent fixture of the base layout. As they were not in an active combat arena, the injuries being tended to inside were not serious: broken bones, a few convalescing from…
They were back in the lab, and Ada was trying to convince them that they had been making progress. "Let me try again, we were really getting somewhere last time," she said. Utsab handed over the device. Wemly could tell when he was frustrated, and had previously described Ada's technical ability as "like a student's, but with more confidence and less self-awareness". She had been hanging around…
Fana and I have been spending time after work above the exhaust vents in the interstitial space. Normally it is just warm enough to keep the various liquids that are piped through the area from freezing, but sitting directly on top of the exhaust tubes reminds me of curling up next to a fireplace as a child. The area was Fana's find and I'm glad she shared it with me. I guess someone ran the…