Critical Futures

This week’s story has been another installment from the Trailing Edge story that I’ve been working on for a while. We haven’t had a Trailing Edge story in a while, but this story is a follow up on the previous “Mars L4 Outpost” story. This is the fifth and final part, but you can still parts one, part two part three and part four. Thanks again for reading.

“…as a result of these events–which I will endeavor to keep you informed of as I learn more–the crew and I have decided that in light of these events we will redirect to Europa, where we will be the first residents of that Colony structure.” Perr said. When she realized that her next act as “liaison” would involve speaking before people her first thought was “maybe I should change,” but managed to banish her vanity.

“Because this is clearly unscheduled, we will need to begin rationing food and other supplies so that we have enough,” Perr said. The crowd grew restless, and the truth was that she didn’t have answers to such specific issues yet. No one did. “We’ll learn more in the coming weeks, and though I have absolutely no clue what to make of any of this, I think its important that we start working for the future.” Perr wasn’t sure what had changed in her: She had started the day tired of the trip and disdainful of all the people she was “stuck with,” and after a brush with total shock her mind was clear, and she was business.

Maybe it was too much time cleaning things up for her brother, dealing with politicians, with upset people, and speaking in front of people. Edwin had called it her “secret reserve,” after she had talked one of Salimia’s bosses in the Marrakesh Dome government into providing relief supplies to the people left in the London and Paris Domes. Edwin, ever the optimist hadn’t thought that they’d be able to do it, but after the second twelve hour day Perr stood up turned it on, and twenty minutes later they had an agreement from the Dome’s administrative council. It took considerably longer to scrape Salimia’s jaw off the floor.

“I would love to be able to answer your question, to sort out the details of how we’re going to make it through the next few months, but the truth is that I don’t know much more than what I’ve already told you.” Perr said, and a murmur swept the crowd. “I’d like to stay and talk with you more personally so we–all–can start figuring out what happens next. And lets meet again here tomorrow and for as long as it takes to figure out what comes next, and what comes after that.” Perr took a deep breath. “Hell, by the time we get to Europa, we’ll be sick and tired of talking about what comes next. Thank you all.”

The crowd laughed at Perr’s last words, and the room was covered by the roar of everyone talking at once.

This week’s story is another from the Trailing Edge story that I’ve been working on for a while. We haven’t had a Trailing Edge story in a while, but this story is a follow up on the previous “Mars L4 Outpost” story. This is the fourth part of five, you can read part one, here, part two here, and part three here. Enjoy!

“Obviously we can’t direct the ship there, all the other transports and outposts within range of the outpost filled passed capacity, particularly in response to this. It’s irrelevant, we’re going to have to redirect somewhere else,” Jensen said. He wasn’t used to talking this much all at once, but Perr was staring blankly at him, and it was clear that she couldn’t quite comprehend the situation.

The crew had known for hours that this was happening and had done a remarkable job of keeping it under wraps, which was only a function of how distant the crew was from the passengers, not the size of the ship. So, Jensen knew that it was a lot to take in, and somehow if only for a moment, he felt compassion for her.

“Wait, it failed?” Perr asked. She’d become less outraged, and more confused.

“Yes.”

“As in the air ran out?”

“Well, not yet–we think–but lets say yes,” Jensen said.

“Wait, not yet?”

Jensen stared back, incredulous. “It didn’t breach…” his voice trailed off and the closed his eyes. “It’s actually more than a bit frightening to think about that kind of death, but there are no ships within range, let alone that have the right spare hardware, and we’ve checked a couple of times.”

“We’re like 3 days out, and we’re just coasting in? Why can’t go for a burn–or whatever–and make it?”

“Because we don’t have a replacement unit, because we don’t have the capacity to take on refugees, because we wouldn’t have enough fuel to get back to Mars, much less anywhere else,” the Captain explained. “These things have all been decided, and you’re not here to help us with this. Frankly even we don’t have the kind of expertise we would need to… freelance.”

“You don’t?” Perr said, and abruptly took her hand off the terminal she had stared to lean into. “Then why am I here?”

“Because the colonial authority demands that we get your input before we lock in the new course–a procedural holdover, I assure you–and more pragmatically we need someone like you to help us tell rest of the passeng–”

“Where are we going,” Perr said, catching up with the conversation again.

Jensen stiffened. “Well, Mars Colony has offered you accommodation and docking rights–”

“–Mars Colony is overcrowded already, that’s why we’re bound for the L4 Station,” Perr said.

“–or if we time it right we should be able to make it to the new colony on Europa–”

“We’ll go there,” Perr said.

This week’s story is another from the Trailing Edge story that I’ve been working on for a while. We haven’t had a Trailing Edge story in a while, but this story is a follow up on the previous “Mars L4 Outpost” story. This is the third part of five, you can read part one, here, and part two, here. Enjoy!

“You’ve been designated passenger representative, Perr Noam, and we are mandated to consult with you regarding our current situation.” The words shot out of the man–Perr presumed him the Captain, though no there were no introductions to him or any of the other crew. There were no questions posed, and all though Perr had plenty of inquires there was no room for questions.

He continued, seemingly, without so much as breathing, “We have just recieved word tha–”

“Wait. Passenger representative? Me? By who? When? And while we’re at it, who the hell are you?” Perr said. Thanks to her youthful idealism, and later her brother–wait this wasn’t about Ediwn, was it?–she’d spent plenty of time negotiating with authority figures.

“The computer selected a slate based upon experience, record, and notoriety amongst the passengers, and then when the need arose you were selected by quick polling by the residents. This is democracy in it’s most efficient and streamlined form.” He wanted to add “or what passes for it,” but decided against it. If being rigid and cold would get him through this meeting faster, he’d take it.

“What if I don’t want this at all and decided to quit?” Perr demanded.

“But you do and you won’t. The colonial administrations’ charter demands that in times of crisis, when possible that leaders consult vested constituencies. As the commander of this transport–Captain Jensen, by the way, didn’t you read the flight information when you came aboard? anyway–I’m duty bound to follow this stupid rule, if I want to have a job, and thus a ride home, after we make port. As this is one of those times where the logs will show that it was possible to consult the passengers’ constituency, I called you in. So here you are. Now, are you ready to find out what this crisis is, or would you rather argue about the colonial authorities rules?”

“Lets hear it.”

“Yesterday evening, the environmental systems on the Mars L4 Outpost Erlang failed–”

“What?!” Perr cried. That was of course, exactly where the transport ship was bound for.