Rockets were notoriously undignified. Physics had presented the problem of the gravity-well, a pit of potential energy that one must escape in order to venture beyond the home planet. Humanity’s response had been one of brute force, stacking together a tower of high explosives and setting it off in controlled carnage; defeating physics by unleashing chemistry.
In the space age, rockets were launched from Earth every day. Dozens of brute force affronts against nature, roaring into the heavens and blazing across the sky. Robyn would never forget what it was like to leave Earth, the power of the engines beneath her, the force exerted on her body as the 500 ton monstrosity barreled higher and higher - faster and faster. In the battle between physics and chemistry, someone had forgotten about biology.
In comparison, escaping Luna was child’s play. As she blasted off towards Earth, the roar of the engines was there, the force and sense of speed were there - but it was hardly comparable. Luna tried not nearly as hard as Earth to keep its residents stuck to the surface. Soon, they were in orbit. Robyn loosened the straps of her seat and started drifting out of them.
Pushing against the soft fabric she started floating towards a window. In this low orbit, the silver-grey expanse of Luna filled the entire view. From Earth, Luna would be in its third quarter, with only half of the surface in the light; for Plato, it was close to ‘noon’. Plato itself was just about visible from orbit, the crater certainly was, and the 7 domes of the city stood out against the small circle of dark-grey. Of course, it would be far more identifiable in a few days, when night fell across the crater and the colours shone amid the pitch-black.
Robyn remained at the window as the shuttle continued to the far-side - the half of Luna that had remained a captivating mystery to humanity’s imagination for thousands of years. It was a shame, really, that once we finally got a glimpse in the 20th Century, there was no climactic discovery at the end of the enigma. Just another hemisphere of grey, this one more heavily cratered than the familiar one.
The craters did tell a story though, another word on mother nature’s character. Humanity may have been thinking up creative ways to kill each other for centuries… but they still hadn’t matched The Universe’s elegant idea: A very heavy rock, moving very fast. Luna itself was a testament to this philosophy: Her fiery birth being the product of a young, unstable Earth smashing into another doomed protoplanet. The incomprehensibly huge storm of debris eventually coalescing into the dusty pearl that now silently orbits its master.
It was fitting. Robyn thought. What is Luna? If not detritus reformed.
A soft voice announced through a speaker that the passengers should strap themselves back in, as the burn for Earth was about to begin. Robyn was flying in what she supposed was the analogue of a private jet. There were 6 seats in her compartment but she had the whole space to herself, a handful of staff were accompanying her to Limina, but they were seated elsewhere. She placed a palm against the window and pushed against it to begin drifting backwards. The empty seats passed by her as she floated back to her seat, they were hefty and wide - designed to cushion passengers against the strong g force, with three interlacing sets of flexible straps. Eventually she bumped against her seat and started re-securing herself.
There were a few tense minutes as the ship completed the last of its orbit, and then a countdown until the escape burn began. At zero, the engines roared to life and Robyn was pushed into the padding. As their speed climbed and climbed, she pictured the image of Luna out of the window, shrinking with each passing moment - Plato becoming less and less identifiable. It felt like she was abandoning her home.
It would take two days for the ship to reach Earth. The small pocket of life would streak through the big empty at speeds beyond where human comprehension ended, but the journey itself was quite devoid of entertainment. Most people would bring a book or a backlog of their favourite albums, but Robyn liked to face it unaided. She was sprinting towards Earth, her erstwhile home and current political foe. She would face a congregation of the most powerful people on the planet and not any among them could be considered an ally. It was, in every sense, a trap. She had a lot to think about…
* *
Once upon a time, there was planet Earth, and it enjoyed a century or so of brilliance. It was that bit with the science and the martyrs and the democracy. That small moment where things were getting better for everyone, when the future was almost exciting. It was that part when the world was kind.
Of course, such a section of human history didn’t actually exist, but it was hard not to be overly-positive through the rose-tint. It all didn’t seem so bad now, looking back from after it had ended.
When it did end, it was slow - undignified and anticlimactic. Democracy melted like an ice cube in tepid water, stirred by the unseen hands of the corporate elite. The glory of that century ended as the number of billion dollar companies shrank, as they devoured and absorbed each other like microbes on an agar plate, leaving only a resilient few. The promise of freedom and justice disintegrated when the politicians vanished from the parliaments, replaced by businessmen and attractive-faced puppets.
With the peak crest, planet Earth found herself, for perhaps the first time in millenia, heading downhill. So when the fuse on the stubborn and exhausting time-bomb of climate ran through, and it was not a dud, the downward slope pitched into a nosedive. When the comforts of the first-world vanished in an instant, and the violence erupted, who would rise and seize control after the dust settled? But the very men whose greed had caused the crisis in the first place.
When peace came, the buildings across the planet where the rituals of democracy had been held were filled again, but they were haunted. Filled with marketable impostors with powerful friends and exquisite media training. The electorate had never been so powerless - the men at the top, were not the men at the top.
It was the bit with the corruption and the erosion and the regression. When science ground to a halt and human rights vanished like a magic trick. That long moment when things were getting worse for almost everyone, when the future wasn’t worth thinking about. It was that part when the world gave up.
Eventually, they needed something big to fight over. Something to write propaganda about. So the superpowers, as they had in the Cold War, looked out into the night’s sky…
When one particular conglomerate sent out their new ships with grand plans of colonisation and new industrial frontiers. They thought little of the 15,000 desperate grunts they had ‘hired’ to actually build the thing. They were certainly surprised when the workers seized control of the project, claimed The Moon for themselves and successfully established ‘Luna’ without getting themselves killed.
The surprise turned to worry as the scientists started leaving. When Earth’s best minds, having endured years of begging for scraps of funding, chased after the exciting promise of a new frontier. An emerging nation state that pledged to respect their research and forge a new home for scientific discovery. Soon, Luna had a monopoly on IQ. The spark of democracy had proven itself genuine, and it would not lightly fade.
An annoyance to the powers-that-be of Earth. No doubt, several plans were formulated to wipe every trace of the colonisers off of the rock; to crack open the habitats and leave them choking in the dust. But they never came to be, instead, they turned to their media - and now the illegitimate occupiers of Luna were no longer brave explorers, but troglodytic traitors. Selfish rule-breakers who had left their friends and families to die on a struggling Earth.
But the colonisers stood firm and Luna grew; the first domes were erected and the population steadily grew to 100,000. When at last the essentials were in place and the time came for the first election, the people chose the voice that had inspired them to rise up and had instilled hope throughout the uncertain days of hunger and weeks-long darkness: Robyn Cast.
Robyn’s first 5-year term had been characterised by growth. Construction of Plato itself and other scientific and civilian projects on the Lunar surface had been the main effort of the population. 100,000 people as one, giving their time, effort and genius to the realisation of an absurd dream. When Robyn was re-elected, the passion and energy carried through, and further reaches of the Lunar waste were covered in the chromatic vivacity of human potential. All the while, the jealous marble-blue eye of Earth loomed in the cloudless sky, staring and unblinking.
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The threat was incorporeal for the most part. There was the odd spy base or satellite, the occasional strongly worded speech or breakdown of diplomacy. But it wasn’t until 2 years into Robyn’s second term, when the animosity escalated into a frightening actualisation. It was last November, when mankind’s first interplanetary feud would draw first blood.
But Robyn didn’t like thinking about that part of the story.
* *
The braking burn at Earth felt somehow harsher than the one providing escape from Luna. When at last the thunder of the engines cut out, and the invisible weight was lifted from her chest, Robyn took a few breaths to steady herself. The two day journey had been about as taxing as expected, Earth had been looming larger and larger with each hour, but now it was huge.
The undeniably gorgeous cradle of civilisation dominated the view from the same window she had stood at two days prior. Long streaks of wisp-like clouds hung over the multi-hued blue of some immense swathe of ocean. The vast coastline of an unfamiliar landmass peeked out from the horizon, Robyn puzzled at it for a moment, then realised it was just South America, but ‘upside-down’.
A door at one end of the compartment slid open with a mechanical hiss, and the pilot took a Grip-adhered step into the room.
“Welcome back to Earth Madam President.” She said with a soft smile, “We will be making a rendezvous with Limina in one hour.”
“Thank you.” Robyn replied, and the pilot slipped away again back to her post.
Her eyes drifted back to the silent giant outside the window. She had prepared as much as she could for the summit, now it was time to face it. Plato may be in need back home, but right now, her place was here - she had to defend Luna on this front. Regardless, she was trying to avoid thinking about the situation she had left behind as much as possible. Partially because she couldn’t do much from here anyway, but mostly because any update on Void Dancer conjured the image of Pen’s corpse back into her mind. There’ll be justice for her later… This week, you must remain focussed on the summit.
* *
Limina was quite old, and technologically outdated by modern standards, but it was still visually striking. The spinning station resembled a wheel: six two-hundred metre long ‘spokes’ connected a circular band of spun-up walking space to a spherical hub in the centre. The outer plating consisted of highly reflective white panels, with spots of golden lights glimmering across the whole of the body. It was one of the first civilian stations, and still remained the largest. Nowadays, it was a luxury hotel for the ultra-rich, an ivory tower high enough to look down upon the whole world. The fact that the United Nations were convening in a place like this was such an explicit microcosm for the state of the World that it was almost sickly.
The ship adjusted itself meticulously in its slow union with the station’s docks. Limina’s mighty pirouette became even more impressive as it loomed larger and larger in the final metres of the approach. At last, there was a soft thump as the ship and the station joined, and a few patient seconds passed before the pilot gave the all-clear.
Robyn and her staff manoeuvred themselves weightlessly to the airlock. Once everyone was accounted for, a member of the flight crew worked at a wall panel and both doors opened. Outside was a large and busy space comprising Limina’s main dock. The outer wall was lined with dozens of docking ports, small crowds of people hovered around the airlocks, some clambering out of their ships, some climbing in. Strips of black Grip led from the outer wall and joined at a large, central front desk, where further crowds were idling. The walls and floor were a decadent, marble-esque off-white, with streaks of bronze and silver. Between the strips of Grip, utterly useless and purely decorative pillars connected the floor to the ceiling. Up high in the centre, above the front desk, an elaborate chandelier hung in the air - suspended by nothing.
Just outside their airlock three suited men stood with their arms behind their backs, one of them stepped forwards with a serious smile.
“Welcome to Limina Madam President, if you would follow us down to the ring we will show you to your rooms.”
Robyn stepped forward first, peeling her foot from the Grip of the airlock and planting it down onto the Grip of the docks. It felt off, the material was too firm and wasn’t adhesive enough… Earth had never been able to make Grip like Luna did. She traced the black strip as she followed behind the men, her staff just behind her. Their path led them to one of many elevators spaced out across an adjacent wall. As they approached, several members of the crowds took notice; they were mainly professional-looking businessmen or politicians, wearing an expression somewhere between distrust and false indifference.
“Take care here.” One of the men said, as they stepped over the thin threshold that separated the stationary hub from the slowly rotating carousel of elevators. The carousel comprised the wall of the hub opposite the airlocks. Only a small arc of the full circular system of elevators was accessible at any given time, with new doors rotating in and out of view constantly. After a guest stepped onto the carousel, they had about a minute to enter an elevator before they’d be forced off the carousel at the far wall. It was, as the name suggested, like boarding a theme park ride, and was a somehow constant obstacle for the hotel’s more senior guests.
The party was led briskly into a large elevator. Once they had all shuffled inside, one of the men lent forward and pressed a button on the controls, beginning the descent. Robyn tried to picture it in her mind: the elevator would first rotate itself, shifting 90 degrees in pitch, so that the descent shaft that ran along Limina’s spokes was at her feet. Then they would descend from the weightless hub to the spinning ring, the artificial gravity strengthening with each moment.
The initial rotation was slow, still in zero gravity, the Grip and the passengers’ stomach muscles were all that was needed to keep everyone in place. Then the descent began. Immediately the spin was obvious, a strange and invisible hand pushing her softly towards the ground. Just a few seconds later, the hand was twice as strong, a few more moments passed, and the hand was as strong as it was on Luna. As the strength increased past the familiar, the weight of her own body progressed from discomfort to pain.
In the bizarre dance of physics, there was also the nauseating inclusion of coriolis… the invisible hand didn’t even have the courtesy to act straight down, but instead at an awkward angle - pushing the elevator’s occupants into an irregular lean.
At three quarters of the way down, her knees started to protest at the suddenly increased load; shortly after her back joined the chorus of complaint. She found herself willing for the descent to end. Whenever the hand stopped, would be its strength for the days to come, she wasn’t sure she could endure it if it got much stronger. One of the suited men peered over his shoulder at the Lunars behind him, an almost-smile was upon his lips.
All of a sudden, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open with a chime. Her staff shifted uncomfortably behind her under the hand’s force, but she remained still.
“Right this way.” He said, and the party followed after him.
They stepped out into another extravagant display, some kind of foyer. A real tree stood in the centre, surrounded by an assortment of seating and tables. Two huge windows spanned opposite walls, out of one, the small, pale circle of Luna stood out against the black. Out of the other, the colossal visage of Earth spread across half of the view. Robyn lent to the ear of one of her staff.
“Follow them to the rooms, then find me here.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She stepped away from the group and started for the window, the planet having already swept a small distance across the glass in the station’s swift rotation. The few dozen steps of the journey were tricky. By all physical laws, the centripetal acceleration shouldn’t feel any different from Earth’s gravity, but it was still… off. Once she reached the window, it was hard to deny the view as anything less than breathtaking. The grandiosity and the inhuman power. The eternal strength and the cosmic fragility. The everything and the nothing. It was difficult to reconcile whether one should feel small in comparison, or huge in the apparent superiority of the view from high above.
“Mrs. Cast!” A voice called from the other end of the window. When she turned, she saw Eddie Marshall approaching her. He was a celebrity, billionaire, and President of the United States of America. He had obscene influence in a dozen fields, and majority ownership in every media conglomerate in the Western Hemisphere - he knew that she wasn’t married.
“Mr. President.” Robyn replied, walking to meet him in the middle and accepting his outstretched hand.
“How was the journey?”
“Pleasant, thank you.”
“I am sorry about the spin,” he said with a frown, “I did ask about slowing it down but they said it would wreak havoc on the plumbing.”
Robyn forced a smile. “It’s quite alright, I spent my childhood running, jumping and falling under the same gravity as you. It’s familiar.”
“Well if there’s anything we can do please-”
“And how was your journey?” She interrupted.
He fiddled with his expensive watch before he spoke. “Getting to orbit still scares the shit out of me.” He said, chuckling. “But I’m glad everyone’s made the effort. I’m optimistic about the summit… which should be on track to start tomorrow as planned.”
“Excellent.” She said, before abruptly spinning on her heel and moving to leave.
“Are you planning on visiting the surface before you return to The Moon?” He continued, unbothered by her attempt at escape. She turned back around to face him, the continental United States had lumbered into view behind him.
“No… I don''t think I’ll have the time.”
“That is a shame… It would be nice to get some fresh air.”
She didn’t bother with the smile this time. “I’m breathing just fine here.” She said, before turning her back on his grinning face.