Critical Futures

This is the fifth installment of the Station Keeping story. This episode comes to us from the history compiled by J. Tiltsten, written several hundred years after the conclusion of these stories. I hope you enjoy, and I’ll see you back here on Tuesday.

The Necessity of Hanmist Studies, Part I

by Professor Jonathan Tiltsten

Unlike some other pivotal moments in the development of human colonial efforts on other worlds, many documents survive from the period just before and during the occupation of a space station in-orbit of the rim-world “Hanm.” Though in retrospect it is widely accepted, and obvious to many scholars of post-League political organization that the events on Hanm Centre were very important, if not key in determining the organization of human government for the next hundred years; at the time, the key actors in this milieux were not only unaware of their coming role in history, but also the importance of their moment. First a letter from the papers of Commander Eli Banner, the first commander of Hanm Centre, written shortly before he departed for Hanm:

Sometimes I think I’m getting too old for field assignments, but it’s better than getting fat and old behind a desk core-side, a lowly commander would never get chosen for a relativity cruise cycle¹. But I’m basically unattached, and I have some experience in the field, but who knows anyway. This time period never did suit me, and it’ll be interesting to see how the world looks on the other side. A of a long flight; not that the core will matter very much out there I trust. I just hope I get a chance to come back someday.

At the same time, the leaders of the civilian government on the colony world Hanm knew that change in the status quo, at least for their people, was imminent–and strictly speaking, it was–their opposition was to the league presence on Hanm Centre, not, in their mind, to the entire League, as it would later become.² Or the interstellar political status quo of the previous thousand years. Indeed it we now think that it would have been at least a generation on Hanm from the time that Eli Banner departed the core-side world until he and his convoy would arrive on Hanm.

This is an excerpt from an editorial circulated by early “Hanmist”[^ists] shortly the Navy confirmed that it was sending a high level operations convoy after Commander Eli Banner left the core for Hanm Centre.

Above all, I would like to express my objection to the fact that the outpost currently under-construction in high orbit of the planet will be operated and governed by the League’s Navy. While an easily accessible space outpost in this part of the galaxy is not inherently objectionable, I would like to locate my resistance to Hanm Centre not in terms of resistance to the League at large, but rather in acknowledgment of the fact that the Civil authority on Hanm was not–according to the public record–consulted by the League authorities, and furthermore, the fact that the station is not to be administered or overseen by Hanmish authorities. Indeed, there is no reason that it can be directed and administered by the civil authorities on Hanm, who would surely be the best suited given their experience with the region.

As we can see, the seeds of the “Hanmist Separation” movement were significantly more modest than the militant movement that would follow in their name. In an age where the technology of space travel had paradoxically brought time and history to a virtual stand still, it took by the standards of the day, only a paltry handful of years for the Hanmist movement to sour. Though from our contemporary perspective this may not seem particularly remarkable, it must have been–particularly to the then unknowing Eli Banner.

“Visa Riots” is a short story from the Trailing Edge project. This story happens several hundred years before the other stories in the project. This is the final installment, of 6 7 parts. Read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. Enjoy!

“–just to be clear on the story, again: you beat up a maintenance worker, crawled halfway across the London dome, snuck into the transport dock, and hijacked a pod and flew to Marrakesh Dome?” Salimia asked, in disbelief: a grin slipping across her face.

Selimia was one of the city administrators, young, fierce, and commanding despite her slight figure. Their fathers had been colleagues, during dome building, and they had played together as children.

Edwin had expected that Salimia would pay them a visit in holding cell–their bedraggled appearance, and long flight in a London Dome maintenance pod reflected poorly on them as possible immigrants or visitors. Bun insted, without hearing their story, or even seeing them, once she had gotten word of their arrival had managed to advocate favorably for Perr and Edwin

Now–a shower and a change of clothes later–they were just like old friends having lunch at a quaint cafe on the streets of Marrakesh.

As if all the worlds great cities weren’t presently aflame. Marrakesh had avoided riots: it’s residents had more connections to the Corps and the Colonization authority because it was the, It helped that the population was smaller when the dome was built so it avoided the pinch after the baby boom.

“Different order, I think,” Edwin said, laughing.

“And it wasn’t halfway across the dome, we weren’t more than a few miles from the transport dock,” Perr said.

Salimia was dismissive. “Whatever, you’re here now. I think we can get you spots on the next shot to orbit, if you want,” she said.

“I’m not sure that we’re ready to leave, there’s work left to be done on Earth,” Edwin said.

“–someday, I might take you up on the offer,” Perr said. Her enthusiasm was not as rabid.

“Don’t wait too long,” Salimia said. “Marrakesh didn’t fall, and we can learn from this mess, but I’m not convinced that there’s as much time as you’d need.”

Edwin smiled, “We’ll see…”

“Visa Riots” is a short story from the Trailing Edge project. This story happens several hundred years before the other stories in the project. This is part 6 of 6 7 parts. Read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. Enjoy!

“What do we do now?” Edwin asked when he was fully awake, still tired, but awake. He was still filthy, but he hadn’t slept well enough to care and there were more pressing concerns.

“I think we need to leave here,” Perr said, from another sofa on the other side of the door. She was still groggy but had been awake for several minutes. “I don’t want to be around when the owners come home and see this,” she said waving her hand over all remnants of their meal the previous night.

The riot had slowed over night, but there were still intermittent sounds from outside the door, as there had been all night. Edwin wasn’t even sure that it was even properly morning.

“Right, sis, but how,” Edwin said.

“Do you think they’ve opened the dome for venting?”

“We’re still hear aren’t we? So probably.”

“Do we know anything that might be useful. I don’t think there’s power here. I don’t have a terminal with me,” Edwin said, sitting up.

“It was coming toward the transport complex. It’s probably about this visa thing, I mean? What else?”

“Right. We still need to get out somehow, we could try and get out of the dome through the venting, but that’s a dead-end, probably.”

“I’m sure it’s safe out there. The Domes are more connivence than necessity at this point,” Perr said.

“Especially when the fucking city is on fire. If we get out of the dome, what’s to say that the next…”

“Right. The transport complex’s closed… didn’t Dad’s company have a little dock port? It’s still there, I’m sure there’s a trans–” Perr said, her voice trailing off. “–from this side, come on.” She jumped up and began to walk down the hallway toward one of the building linkages.

Edwin scooped up a couple of water bottles and a few snacks and followed her. “Wait, Perr, what the hell?”