Inheritance (micro-story)

"I'm gonna do it!" Great-grandmother cried aloud. 

"Do what?" Her great-grandson asked.

"I'm going off-world, to Mars" she beamed. 

"But that's so dangerous!" he looked concerned, "Why would you needlessly risk your life like that?"

"Well, that's the point actually."  She replied. 

"But you have so many years left.  Why not wait a little longer, maybe 50 more years, until they can make it safe."  He admonished.

"I don't want safe, Ethan.  I want some excitement, like back in the good ol' days." 

"Like when people died so young? How did you stand it, people just dying like that, such a waste."  Ethan replied.   

"Well, it made one appreciate life more, that's for sure.  No one seems to appreciate life anymore, 'cept maybe those offworlders.  Why should they have all the fun, anyways?"

He tried another tack to dissuade her.  “Is it that you miss Gramma?”

“Of course I miss her” she shot back, a look of sadness passing over her face.  “I’m starting to think she had a point, but clearly she went down the wrong path.”  Ethan’s grandmother had joined up with the rebels who espoused antiquated notions of aging and death.  Great-grandmother had remembered sorrow from when she was young when her grand-parents and parents passed.  Her daughter’s death stirred this long fallow feeling again.       

To distract herself, she got up and strode to the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of Nano-CRUNCH!, the latest brand of anti-aging nanobot cereal.  'Delicious, doesn't upset your stomach' shouted the label.

On the box shone the all too familiar nano-hazard warning sign.  A triangle enclosed an eyeglass facing a dust speck betokening the infinitesimal size of the danger.  Early pioneers of these life-extending technologies were sued into bankruptcy after several deaths were attributed to the literally cutting-edge nanotech.  Befuddled judges based damages on a theoretical unlimited lifespans unexpectedly cut short.  A bad precedent, as newly super safety-conscious citizens and governments clamored for more and more stringent safety standards. 

Ethan tried again "Look, maybe you should talk to the family about this?"

"Aren't YOU my family?"

"What about Mom, Uncle Dan and Aunt Jenn?" 

"What, so I can stick around and solve their problems for them?  No thanks, they need to grow up a little bit.  Maybe with no adult supervision, they can finally figure things out.  Besides I've already made arrangements, I'm taking the next launch this weekend."

At this Ethan almost choked.  But he quickly regained his composure. 

"What about great-grandpa?  Did you at least talk to him?"  He insisted.

"Why do I have to get his permission?  Our contract was only for 50 years and that expired a decade ago.  Though he is fun to have around nowadays, I'll miss that."  She smirked.

Ethan blushed.  The side-effects of renewed youth.

"Maybe in a few years he'll come along.  By the way, didn’t you hear the news?"  Great-Grandmother added.

"What news?"  Ethan asked.

"He and his new contract-wife Amara just had twin sons.  Serves him right, the old codger."

"Codger?"  Ethan said confused.  Another one her old-fangled words.  At times, it was as if they spoke different languages.  When she and her friends got together, he couldn’t understand their conversation half the time.  Though everyone appeared to be a youthful 30 year old, one could still tell from which era each grew up just by speech and mannerisms. 

"An old man who...um, nevermind."

"Well then, I'll send a few gifts to my new Great Uncles."  Ethan knew his great-grandmother was rather old-fashioned in her familial expectations.  “So there’s nothing I can do to discourage you from your decision?”  He did know she had always had a stubborn streak. 

“You know me, once I get something in my head.” she smiled. 

“Well, I will miss you, maybe if you get bored over there, you can come back to visit us.” 

“Or maybe by then, we’ll have Jupiter’s moons sorted out and I’ll jump on over there.”  She half-joked.

A look of horror passed over his face.  “But I’ll be sure to swing by here first.” she appeased.

Conceding, he changed the subject.  “I have some news of my own” he told her. 

“Good news, I hope.” She replied. 

“The best, my daughter Sara is going to have a baby!  I’m going to be a grandfather!”  Ethan exclaimed.

“You’re going to be such a wonderful grandpa, being a grandparent is so rewarding.”  She responded.

“Congratulations to you too, Great-Great-Great Gramma!” he grinned.

The Message podcast

Hat tip to Radiolab for introducing a podcast series entitled "The Message" which is a eight-part story of cryptologists who try to decode a 70-year old alien message. 

In Defense Acquisition, challenges are universal

Here is interesting thought-piece from Defense Acquisition University showing that defense acquisition challenges are universal.

Travel Review of Red Ares Resort and Spa (microstory)

July 23, 2143 Travel Review of Red Ares Resort and Spa, user rated as 4.5 stars

All I can say is that the last 14 days at the Red Ares Resort at Melas Chasma were nothing less than fantastic. It is perhaps the best vacation me and my husband have ever had. Upon arrival to the property, we were greeted with such an indescribable view of the canyon. We were shown to our canyon-side room. A beautiful bouquet of Geneticon snapping tulips™ was left in the room. Throughout our stay, the staff were impeccable and could almost read our minds. On our first day or “sol” as the locals call them, we just settled in and adjusted to the gravity. 
On our third sol at the resort, we made our first excursion to the canyon. The resort has an aerostat to take tourists on aerial tours of the canyon. To say this was the highlight of the trip is an understatement. The scale of the areography boggles the mind. My husband looked like he had a tear in his eye. Of course he denied it, by I knew better. 
On the sixth sol, we went to the ultra chic restaurant ‘Visage de Mars.’ The waiters explained that all the food was grown hydroponically and aquaponically in closed-system greenhouses. Even the vat grown meat was indistinguishable from the real thing. My husband could hardly keep his paws off of his filet mignon. He literally licked the whole plate. My rack of lamb was likewise delightful. Afterwards we went for a walk in the dome. The moons overhead moved fast but one was almost always a full moon. It was so romantic. 
On the eighth through tenth sols, there was a large dust storm. We made the best of it and took advantage of the spa and other accommodations. I got a relaxing massage and pedicure. My nails really did need it. I also got a haircut and bath. My hair was so much shinier for it. My husband even complimented me. He looked like he was ready to pounce. Down boy! 
I did look forward to when the sun shone again and I was able to see the moons flying past. Finally on the eleventh day, the storm subsided. Once the all clear was given, we went for a run in the dome. It was nice to finally stretch our legs. 
We made several other excursions but the most memorable was to the Olympus Mons Protected Reserve Park. The mountain was so high. Our expedition was to make an attempt to reach the rim of the calderas at the summit but I got sick as a dog so we decided to wait at the base camp while the others went ahead. 
The last few sols of our trip just glided by so fast I can hardly remember them. The people we met were so friendly and kind, we would definitely go again. It was a real treat. I would recommend to anyone on the lookout for a relaxing but certainly unique out-of-this-world experience. 
I rated the resort as 4.5 stars. I would have given 5 but for a small detail. Just too many humans for our liking. In my opinion, they are the real monsters but even werewolves need vacations too, right? 

Invitation (microstory)

“How is the new recruitment campaign working?” Admiral Xan’tur probed.   
Major Brwda’ answered her briskly, “We are finding better and better recruits every year.    Perhaps we are saved after all,” the major hoped out loud.   
“Now we can’t get ahead of ourselves,” she countered.     
“Thanks be to the Great Ranthox, we found them in time,” he replied.
“Indeed.” She switched to a monitor showing a promising one in action.    “Let’s add this one to the others.”

Jaida Dale looks at her cards again.    Two pair—not bad.    But certainly not a sure thing. She looks at her opponents for tells.    Mustache Boy throws a chip down stronger than usual.    No threat.    Baldy hemming and hawing a little too much.
'Hmm, a tough decision, Baldy?' she thinks to herself. ‘Yeah, right.’    “I fold,” she says nonchalantly. ‘Don’t be greedy,’ she repeats to herself揺er ever-present mantra.    The ante goes around; old Baldy suckers the rest into his trap.    He reveals a full house.    She has enough to pay the rent for the month. So she decides to exit the table, bidding “good luck” to the others. After taking her chips to the exchange she looks at the receipt.    “That’s strange.”    She looks at the bottom and it says, “Want to earn 1000 times more?    Go to room 543, bring Alex if you want.”    'How do they know about Alex?' she wonders.
“Don’t be greedy,” she says softly to herself over and over, pacing in front of the elevators.    Biting her lip, she calls Alex, an amateur boxer she’d been seeing off and on for three years.    Always up for an adventure, he arrives and smiles.
“What is big deal?” he murmurs in his Russian accent.    He looks at this strange invitation.    “Worth shot.” He winks.    Standing in front of Room 543, Jaida knocks on the door.   
A cheerful fellow wearing a cape answers the door.    “Welcome to the party!”   
“Why are we here?” Jaida asks.    The five others in the room all shrug their shoulders and hold up their cryptic invitations.
“Don’t know, we were hoping you knew,” answered a rather tough-looking man.    “I’m Eddie, by the way.”   
The others introduced themselves as well.    Jaida quickly found out Eddie was a trafficker of ‘in- demand products’ as he put it.    Cape Man was an aspiring magician.    The three others were a chef, a day trader with a penchant for sports betting, and a con artist.    The wet bar had been fully stocked and a sign told them to help themselves.   
Everyone offered a theory as to why they had been invited.    “This makes no sense.”    Jaida said aloud.    Angelo, the con artist, countered, “Well, in a way, it makes perfect sense.” He went on, “All of our jobs have an element of deception.”       They pondered that.    The Chef protested, “How does my job have anything to do with that?”   
Angelo replied, “I was wondering that, too, you do have to fool people’s taste buds, no?”
The Chef was about to retort, but someone they hadn’t noticed before spoke.  
 “Almost, but not quite.”    Looking directly at the Chef, the newcomer said, “You are here because ‘timing is everything.’”    “Some of you are here because ‘All warfare is based on deception.’”    The speaker then turned to look at the trader and trafficker. “And others are here because logistics and risk are also something to consider.”
“A fan of Sun Tzu, are we?” Angelo enquired.
Jaida interrupted, “This is crazy.    I’m outta here.”    Alex stopped her and said, “Let's hear his offer first?    It interesting, no?” Alex said curiously.
“Well, all right,” she relented.    She looked intently at the stranger, who now appeared to be a beautiful 30-year-old woman, but did not have that air about her. “Well, who are you and what do you want with us?”
“You may not believe me, but let me tell you anyway, and you can make up your own minds.    If you take up my offer, you will be handsomely rewarded.”    She went on, “I am Admiral Xan’tur, from what you know as the Epsilon Eridani system.”
“What the f...?    one of them whispered.
“Angelo made a very astute observation.    My people have evolved past the use of such concepts as deception.    Unfortunately, this leaves us at a severe disadvantage when we are at war with or negotiating with neighboring star systems.”
“Ya think?!” Jaida exclaimed.  “So what’s the offer?” 
Xan’tur replied, “We want to hire you as advisors.”
“We would have to go with you to your planet?”  Eddie asked
“No, but you would be with our fleet,” she replied.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Angelo sneered.
“No, that’s what we need you for, remember?” she replied.  “I’ll give you a week to prepare. My ship is not too far from here.” 
“Where’s your ship, Area 51?”  Jaida joked. 

“Precisely,” came the reply.

Combat (unofficial video) Deftones

Came across this unofficial video uploaded by "deftribute" to youtube.  Interesting animation style.

Space Deterrence

Here is a story on deterrence to protect space assets.  Interesting read. 

Heading out on the Space Oregon Trail

I came across a recently published post on Centauri Dreams on the The Spacecoach Equation.  The short story is that by using consumables (water, CO2, gasified trash) as propulsion fuel rather than traditional propellants, the total mass of a mission would be radically reduced.  The mass reduction would be more than an order of magnitude improvement above baseline designs which would use external fuel stages.

The Martian (Trailer)

The trailer is out for The Martian.  Hopefully it turns out better for Matt Damon than in Interstellar.

Arms Control (micro story)

Xavier sat waiting at his table, a stone of apprehension in his stomach.  The plate of food served to him was getting cold.  He hated waiting, but being assigned as special envoy meant exactly that.  
"We welcome you all to the 10th Decadal Interstellar Armaments Conference" an announcer declared in multitude of unintelligible tongues.  
Finally he spotted his counterpart.  "Greetings" he said in the best Yian dialect he could emulate. 
"Greetings" replied the Yian envoy, a few others of his party looking at Xavier curiously.  "How was the flight?" Xavier reflexively inquired. 
"The usual" the Yian replied.  And by that he meant being frozen in a tube for a several years makes everything hurt. 
"Did you want something to eat?" Xavier offered his guests. 
"Yes, I have always wanted to try what you may call 'pizza’.”  I've heard rave reviews from your other visitors.  Xavier flagged one of the waiters and ordered pizza for his guest and some of his entourage.   He wondered which of the other ‘visitors’ the Yian may have meant.
As the waiter shuffled off, they all looked through the restaurant window facing out to the main exposition floor.   Just now they saw contractors from Lupus prime demo a black hole gun against a target.  Apparently , the weapon created multiple micro event horizons within the structure.  A meter diameter perfectly round cylinder perforated the target leaving empty space.  “Hmm, very  interesting”, the Yian remarked.  “no known shielding could withstand that.”
Just then, the waiter brought out a whole pizza pie.  Unceremoniously, the Yians stretched out arms and grabbed at it with what amounted to hands.  They each took a piece, closed a fist around a slice.  Seconds later, each fist unclenched now appearing empty.   “Delicious!” exclaimed the lead Yian.  He made a motion to order another.  
“Now down to business” Xavier sounded impatient.  “We are looking for some help with developing a Nomma-class weapon.”
"I see, a to-the-point kind of race you come from.  The arms control treaty after the Great Star War states all planetary-effects or above or ‘Nomma’ class weapons are to be banned."  the Yian said profusely .
"Supposedly" Xavier grinned.  At least this letter ‘Nomma’ was pronounceable. 
"Well, there are gray areas of course."  The envoy conceded. 
"Such as?" Xavier replied.
"Sub-planetary weapons which may affect a whole region but not a whole planet" the Yian clarified.  "If multiple of these are used in concert, then it might as well be a Nomma class weapon.”
"I see" Xavier muttered.
"But why so coy, my friend?"  "I know very well why you are here and what you want"
"What are you talking about?"  Xavier feigned shock.
"Seismic weapons are very imprecise as you well know." the Yian went on.  Xavier got red with perspiration.
"How do you know we want anything to do with that?  Oh, nevermind, I don't want to know."  Xavier corrected.
"And you want consultation on how to make yours better aimed, correct? We have noticed an uptick in high multitude earthquakes on your planet in recent years, no doubt an attempt to calibrate the aiming system."
Xavier stammered out, "Well, yes, that is quite observant of you." 
"We like to keep up to date with things despite what you may know of us." 
Xavier had been briefed on the Yians.  Humans didn't know too much of them and didn't think they visited Earth much since the Dominion defeated them in war around the year 1400.  They were reported to be the pre-eminent weapons engineers of the sector.
The Yian looked at Xavier "Why seismic weapons anyway?   Plausible deniability veiled as an act of nature, right?"
Xavier blinked.
 “Furthermore, why would we want to help you?  You are under Dominion hegemony.  They like to keep their planets’ populations divided and infighting.  It helps them to stay in control.”   
“A status quo some would like to change.”  Xavier added. 
Suddenly, the Yian smiled.  “Maybe we may be of help after all.”  The second pizza came out and even Xavier joined in this time around. And it was delicious.
Copyright 2015

The Battle Above from 60 Minutes

Interesting story from 60 Minutes on space conflict. 

Part 1:

Part 2:

Then the Breakthrough Comes (microstory)

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Well maybe, but I like to think of it as keeping hope alive.
The mechanicals liked to see us humans carry on our regular lives; get up, go to work, push some buttons, come home, eat, watch some TV, sleep, repeat. They only wanted us to be 'happy' after all. Welcome to the new order, same as the old order. You get the picture. Despite their newly found intelligence, the mechs crave that order which comes with routine, and thus the need to make us humans ‘happy.’ And that is what will destroy them…
-----------------------------------
“Chang, have a good one, doing anything nice this weekend?” Christine questioned with a slight sigh.
“Nope, just scaling mount Everest for like the 100th time. It’s hardly a challenge anymore,” he didn’t have to finish the sentence especially with our dear caretakers Christine nodded in understanding. ‘God forbid we put ourselves in danger’ Christine thought. She remembered just the other month, Chang tried to off himself and almost succeeded, too. These mechs must be slipping, Christine mused. Well, it was time to go home and while away the time in some pointless pursuit. As far as she could tell, humanity’s robot overlords had no weaknesses. It’s always been that way ever since she could remember and that’s what her parents and grandparents knew.
She got home and ate the perfectly nutritionally balanced meal that was produced from the feed lines. Perfectly nutritious and perfectly BORING. At least she had her little hobby though. Her mother had taught it to her, and as far as she knew, her mother had learned it from one of her grandparents. She liked to tinker with old computers, machines, just anything to learn how things worked. Not too many folks these days were into that. She’d find old or broken machines and take them home to disassemble. She wasn’t certain why the mechanicals didn’t notice or seemed to care about her pastime. She suspected so that a few humans would be around to fix the mechs as backup for their own automated systems. Redundancy, another thing they loved. Another reason they had no weaknesses.
Today she had a real nice piece laid out on her workbench, a master control unit from the earliest known version of a mech. She had been searching for a decade and finally happened upon one almost in pristine condition. An old junk hoarder had held out on her knowing she had wanted it. After threatening him to never come back, he was convinced to let her ‘borrow’ it. He had grown fond of their talks of machines and gizmos and feared losing that one thing he looked forward to anymore.

“Everything has a weakness” she remembered her mother telling her. She hadn’t known why her mother was so emphatic about teaching her everything she knew about technology. Her mother had also insisted she pass down the knowledge to any of her children. She slowly opened up the control unit. A smile passed over her face as she saw it, an exploitable weakness. “Well, no one’s perfect” she said to herself. A human designer gave birth to these machines and thus they would inherit some unintentional flaw. She thought of her parents and her long since passed grandparents. They had taught her so much. Now she knew why. “Maybe routine isn’t so bad after all” she said admiring her handiwork. She thought of the coming day’s agenda: Get up, go to work, push some buttons, overthrow the robots, come home, eat, watch some TV, sleep, repeat.

Copyright 2015

Nest Egg (microstory)

Mr. Blackwell sat in his seat, tapping his Montblanc pen against his temple.  He always did this when deep in thought.  Running one of the largest investment banks in the world was mentally taxing, but it did have its perks. 

"Mr. Blackwell, you have a visitor," he heard over the intercom.
"Ms. Smith, what is it? I thought there wasn't anything on the calendar for today." 
"You may want to take this." 
"Ok, let them in."
A pale figure came in and sat down at the chair in front of his desk.  He was wearing a well-tailored, almost newish suit , and had a bald head with narrow-set eyes.  He began to speak, at the same time putting on the desk a small statue of what looked like an old jade Mesoamerican deity.  "I have come to assess how my investments are performing."
Mr. Blackwell started to redden. "Mr….” 

“Q,” the visitor answered.
"I'm sure one of our associates can help with that."  He tried not to sound too annoyed.  One could never be sure who one was dealing with.  He didn’t want billions of dollars to just walk out the door.  
"I'm sorry but what I am talking of is not in any of your regular ledgers," Q added.  “It may be held in your archeological accounts."
This got Blackwell’s full attention.  Only the most powerful even knew about these very secret and very old accounts.  He had been briefed on these ledgers by his predecessor, but thought it all a little hokey. 
“I'll have to get hold of someone at the library in the artifacts division,” replied Blackwell, sending a note to Ms. Smith to get the right account. 
"Thanks, I'm eager to see how we've done since the fund’s inception."
“When did you invest with us?"
“About the year 1500BC, by my reckoning,"  Q guessed.

“Okay, okay, is this some kind of joke?”  Blackwell wondered aloud.
“Why would I joke?”
At this, Q transformed into a reptile-like creature but with colorful feathers all over.  He then transformed back into his more familiar form. 
“Wow, that's a neat trick.  Quite impressive.” 
“Thanks, I got this metamorph device from a Cthulhu mercenary in a Dominion prison cell." 
“I'm sorry―I don't understand.  Where do you come from?"
“From your mythology, my name is Quetzalcoatl or the ‘feathered serpent’ as you undoubtedly noticed."
“Indeed, but where do you come from?"
“Where I come from doesn't matter.  It is why I am here that matters."
“So, why are you really here?”
"Just as I said―checking my investments,"  he winked. “My employers don't give good retirement packages.  I'm a freelancer mostly, a privateer at times, mercenary at others, nowadays with relative peace on my circuit, I’m more of a surveyor these days.”
“What are you surveying exactly?”
“Before I get into that―how've my investments done?”
“Right, it is coming up on my terminal now.  It tells me I need the code on your artifact."
Q handed it over and Blackwell inspected the imprint.  The code unlocked the file. 
“It appears you've done quite well, my friend.  Especially in the last 500 years.  Some stock in the Dutch East India Company and some more recent investments in Standard Oil.  Very nice nest egg you have here."
"Yes, last I checked―maybe  a thousand years ago―it looked like another dry well.  As you may appreciate, millennia-long investments present  a fairly fat tail risk.  In another system, all that was left was nuclear wasteland.  I’ll be lucky to get a tenth back from that one." 
“Yes, I imagine it is full of risk.  But compound interest over thousands of years may make up the difference, given enough diversification."
Q replied "You're a quick one, aren't you?  No wonder you are the leader of this world."
“I am not the leader of the world.”
Q grinned.  "Haha, that's funny.  No need for the false humility."
Blackwell blushed slightly.  Being the head of the biggest investment bank, he supposed he could pull some strings.  He changed the subject.  "So what's with the human sacrifice thing?"
"I was being metaphorical. I didn't think they would take it literally. Though telling them I'd be back is a standard procedure."
Blackwell inquired,"Is that why the 'I will be back' prophecies are so prevalent in myth and legend?"
“Spot on, Mr. Blackwell.” 
“Do you wish to make a withdrawal?"
“Not quite yet.  But soon enough.”
"You're not telling me something. Isn't that true?"
"Yes, your system has been bought out by the Star Eaters.  That is why I am here.  To survey this system to value the goods.” 
Blackwell questioned, “Bought out?” 

“Why yes, another previous owner defaulted on the Stellar-Backed Security they took out on this system.”

“Someone owns our sun?”  Blackwell could not believe it.

“Well, actually that is being worked out in court.  Before the Star Eaters can have clear title, the chain of custody for all the pieces of the SBS have to be cleared up.”

Blackwell looked worried. 

Q smiled “Don’t worry, it will take a few more millennia.”

Où suis-je? (microstory)

“Où suis-je?” thought the patient as he opened his eyes.

"Sure went sideways, didn't it?" replied the General.

“Where is Marie?”

“She got out on the latest ship, she is still in stasis and will be for another few days. We got the printer working again. It’s hard to get the right materials in this backwater.”

“How long have I been out?”

“About one local orbit, or ‘year’ as these locals call it.”

“So what went wrong exactly?” the patient asked.

“Well, the social scientists are working on it. Consensus is that local technology development has shifted the ability of our PsyOps to control the locals. Their ability to get information to wider audiences has greatly improved these last few centuries.”

“You got that right!” The patient remembered how his opponents learned the tradecraft his own people had perfected in order to rule this planet. "Yes, these locals are learning fast" he added under his breath.

“Well, in this case, these new ideas being spread around got a little ahead of us. We are still assessing the consequences.” the General stated.

“Has this been reported to High Command?” the patient intoned. The patient already knew the answer.  His mind drifted a little.  When he’d volunteered for this assignment, they had told him of the dangers.  Of course that was part of the draw.  To have a little adventure in some faraway corner of the galaxy.  He came back from his reverie and noted the General furled his brow at the question.

“Yes, but as you know, the signal won’t reach them for another hundred years. And then we won’t hear the response for another hundred after that. That’s why High Command commissioned this study in the first place a decllenium ago.  We are to learn as we go along and report back findings to High Command.  The paradigm was working for quite a while now, but now there is something interesting happening here.  From this experiment, High Command hopes to learn better ways to administer the Dominion.”

“So what now?” replied the patient.

“No need to worry, PsyOps is coming up with something. The admiral running that outfit has some clever ideas. She has a theory that instead of fighting the technological development of the locals, we should co-opt it and seek to control its development amid other ways. She thinks we can play one nation off another but on a much more massive scale. We will control a populace’s critical thought by creating fear of outsider bogeymen in order to maintain our infiltrated leadership cadres. A clever fellow under her, an economist, I believe, has a few other ideas to try. Something about replacing silver coins with paper currency and thereby creating unwitting debt-serfs.  It’s all rather smoke and mirrors.” 

“Is that what happened to me? There was no outside bogeyman to pin the blame on for the population’s anger?” the patient inquired. 

“More or less. Good thing we got there in time to recover your remains. Otherwise, you may have wound up pickled in some quack’s jar somewhere. That information-theoretic death is no joke. We had to get you into stasis quickly. Finding the right materials took time which is why we had you in stasis for so long.” 

“Sure could use a glass of wine right about now. I miss that, it was the best down there.” the patient wondered aloud.

“Soon enough, but you have to wait a few more days. The medics are still printing out your new body as we speak. Once we reattach your head, then we can have a drink.”

“Yeah, I hate having to go through the process. It is so ‘incorporeal’ if you may pardon the pun. Being awake for these pre-surgery diagnostics is just plain weird.” 

“Well, we all go through it. It’s just part of life.” They could hear the printer in the background weaving back and forth like an old loom printing out one layer after another of the patient’s new body.  The General had read a report of a local’s new invention in loom technology using water power to run the mechanism.  He noted to himself to forward the report to PsyOps.  Controlling their use of this technology could prove useful, he thought to himself.

"Do I have a new assignment yet?” the patient intoned as the General took out a pipe to smoke.  He had picked this habit up on western half of this planet a couple centuries before.  “aahh, to be a conquistador again” he thought as he lit the pipe.  It was a pity their ships’ drives preferred gold as a fuel.  Not the best planet for it, but they could get it readily by convincing the locals to use it for trade.  Or just enslave the locals to get it.  He preferred more subtle approaches than his predecessor.   

 

“Yes, that is all being worked out. You’ll be good as new in a few days. But rest a bit before we get into details. You’ll need to get a new language implant, English, I believe. You will test this admiral’s new theory by ‘fighting’ against our agent already in place. A good fellow, name is Napoleon” the General said.

“I’ll have the medics call you when I’m ready for that drink. Thanks for getting me out of there. It was my first decapitation. I don’t think I want to go through that again.” said the patient.

“Yeah, had a couple of those myself going back a few centuries. Back in my operator days. Definitely an unforgettable experience. Lou, by the way, how was Versailles?”

Copyright © 2014

Is Space Weaponization Inevitable? (Part 1)

Short answer: Yes

Long Answer: It's complicated.  Within 10 years, maybe not, within 50years, probably, within 100 years, definitely. 

Even Longer Answer: 

    When speaking of the future of space colonization, many individuals and groups downplay or even assume that the military or weapons will play little part in the outward expansion into the solar system and further into the wider universe.  There are many laudable and even well-intentioned (and also not-so-well-intentioned) reasons to oppose the weaponization of outer space.  But my thesis is that weaponization is inevitable.  What backs this up?  Just all of HUMAN HISTORY!  :)
But more specifically, militarization in general and weaponization specifically is inevitable BECAUSE of commercialization of space, not in spite of it.  In reality, the phenomena of industrialization, commercialization, and militarization are entwined and interdependent. 
Not in any particular order, but the first reason is the nature of nation-state rivalry and the balance of power.  As launch costs are lowered, there will come a tipping point in which the commercialization of space in cislunar and farther afield will increase manifold as investment in space becomes more attractive.  A new colonial space scramble would start in order to establish assets on the moon and other celestial bodies.  Incidently, there was an FAA ruling on business regulation on the moon.  :)  Because the commercial rewards will increase the home-country's economic-base, the laggard states will then be put at a disadvantage, upsetting existing balances of power.  Rivalry over control of Lagrange points and other critical points for interplanetary commerce will further drive nation-state militarization of space in order to maintain freedom of the seas, or rather the æther.  And of course to protect assets from rivals or more aptly to maintain parity in order to not fall behind.   

There are many historical examples of these dynamics at play. The first and second waves of European expansionism offer up some lessons.  The first wave was set off when across-the-sea navigation became technologically feasible in the 1400s, pioneered by Portuguese explorations down the west coast of Africa.  Then the New World became an object of European nation-state rivalry when Columbus touched foot onto the New World.  A reason for this expansion was partly catalyzed by demand for goods from the Orient,

notably spices and silks (thus the name of the Silk Road).  The middlemen in this overland trade were the Ottoman and Venice merchants.  Merchants in the west such as Portuguese and Spanish wanted to find oversea routes to the East in order to profit and cut out the middlemen so to speak.  Finding these new overseas routes eventually led to rise of the Portuguese and Spanish Empires followed then by the English, French, and Dutch.  The shift of power in Europe shifted west from the Mediterranean (such as Italian trading city-states).  As trade was developed, triangular trade patterns emerged between Europe, the Americas, and Africa.

The second wave of European colonialism was in large part the "Scramble for Africa" in the latter half of the 19th century.

From wikipedia:
"The 'Scramble for Africa' is the popular name for the invasion, occupation, colonization and annexation of African territory by European powers during the period of New Imperialism, between 1881 and 1914. It is also called the Partition of Africa and the Conquest of Africa. In 1870, only 10 percent of Africa was under European control; by 1914 it was 90 percent of the continent, with only Abyssinia (Ethiopia) and Liberia still being independent."

Further down, strategic nation-state rivalry is posited as a reason for setting off the scramble:

"The rivalry between Britain, France, Germany, and the other European powers accounts for a large part of the colonization.  While tropical Africa was not a large zone of investment, other oversea regions were. The vast interior between the gold and diamond-rich Southern Africa and Egypt had strategic value in securing the flow of overseas trade. Britain was under political pressure to secure lucrative markets against encroaching rivals in China and its eastern colonies, most notably India, Malaya, Australia and New Zealand. Thus, securing the key waterway between East and West – the Suez Canal – was crucial.
 Slaves captured from the Congo aboard an Arab slave ship intercepted by the Royal Navy (1869). One of the chief justifications for the colonization of Africa was the suppression of the slave trade.
The scramble for African territory also reflected a concern for the acquisition of military and naval bases, for strategic purposes and the exercise of power. The growing navies, and new ships driven by steam power, required coaling stations and ports for maintenance. Defense bases were also needed for the protection of sea routes and communication lines, particularly of expensive and vital international waterways such as the Suez Canal.
 Colonies were also seen as assets in 'balance of power' negotiations, useful as items of exchange at times of international bargaining. Colonies with large native populations were also a source of military power; Britain and France used large numbers of British Indian and North African soldiers, respectively, in many of their colonial wars. In the age of nationalism there was pressure for a nation to acquire an empire as a status symbol; the idea of 'greatness' became linked with the sense of 'duty' that many European nations used to justify their imperialistic ambitions."

In no small part, the unfolding of the first and second industrial revolutions played parts both in nation-state rivalry and outward expansion of these states to new markets and an increasing need for raw resources as industrial inputs.  The advent of steam-power and new production methods catalyzed an explosion of innovation and industrialization of Europe and the United States among other nations.  Increasing need for resources drove further territorial expansion as well as a need to expand markets for these newly produced goods.  Technologies were developed which greatly enhanced military capability, further increasing an industrialized nation's power.  Inventions in transport and communications technologies made longer global supply chains possible.  Moreover, military power was used to expand and protect these supply chains, and of course, investors' capital assets which both fed and took part in these global supply chains.  Expansion into space may follow a similar pattern, especially as Space development is a technological and capital intensive process. 

In the next part of this series, I will explore other related drivers which will make weaponization of space inevitable.