"What is the meaning of this?" King Arthur demanded.
"We swore an oath," Lancelot said, "to aid damsels and accept their quests."
Galahad nodded. "I met a lady who requested free universal healthcare."
"Basic universal income," Percival added.
"And universal suffrage," Bors said.
The princess left a note behind, explaining why she ran away.
"She disagrees with what she was taught," the queen said.
"Embroidery and such?" chuckled the king. "Classic."
"It's not needle-work she objects to. She likes that. She rejects the nobility of these nobility, and our right to rule."
The princess left a note behind, explaining why she ran away.
"She disagrees with what she was taught," the queen said.
"Embroidery and such?" chuckled the king. "Classic."
"It's not needle-work she objects to. She likes that. She rejects the nobility of these nobility, and our right to rule."
When the invasion from the fourth dimension came, it had unexpected benefits. The new overlords were surprisingly mild. They only wanted the Earth for Qling, a substance we neither understood nor needed. They filled enormous eye-warping four dimensional tankers with a cargo we couldn’t even perceive, then left us in peace. A few stayed, having found human friends and even lovers.
My neighbour is one such. We met when xe returned my lost cat. “I don’t know how she keeps getting out”, I said, “all the doors and windows are shut”.
“What about that gap there?”
“Where?”
“Oh of course, it’s invisible in three dimensions. Here let me close it up.”
The cat is still furious about this.
Maintaining an interstellar community is extraordinarily hard. Even within the human worlds, it is difficult.
The hardest part is disease.
Not so much massive plagues - they are easy to quarantine. The tricky thing is the endemic bugs of each world. The things that could run riot in other biospheres.
Smoothing the spread of such bacteria and virii is initially handled by the scout service, who introduce the most common microflora and fauna to new worlds in a well controlled way. They also manage the outward spread of the new world's biome to neighbouring worlds.
But what about after that? How do you maintain a biome that is not going to kill travellers across tens, let alone hundreds or thousands of worlds?
The answer lies in one of the least formal parts of any major interstellar community.
The tramp trade network.
Small independent traders that move from world to world in small ships, moving relatively slowly, and almost always visiting the surface. Picking up the latest mutations in the local microflora and fauna as an incidental, and releasing the latest from the nearest neighbours.
Keeping the local group more-or-less in sync. And the trade routes overlap, and operate in overlapping spheres.
Yes, if you were to catch a fast ship from one end of a large polity and travel to the other end, you might well get very sick. But if you did it slowly, you would get gradually adapted.
The downside is that most travellers over large distances tend to spend much of their time vaguely unwell.
"Space Flu" they call it, and it is something that affects many long-distance tourists. People discuss solutions for it on the news boards almost constantly, and new treatments are always being touted.
What only a few very well informed people know is that this travelling malaise is a sign that things are working as expected. There will never be a complete cure for it, and it would be a disaster if one were found.
#SF #SFF #SciFi #SpaceOpera #microfiction #tootfic #microfic #IAmWriting
This one, it’s perfect. Engineer wanted. Zalman-Weiskopf drive just like your last two ships, a six week loop from here to Zeta Reticuli then on to Rho Persei and back home. That’s a fabulous opportunity; you’d have access to leave on all the planets in the Zeta Herculis group. The beaches of Phi Lupi are unforgettable!
Lemme see. Starship Roberta Flack, ten year old cargo lugger, complement of twenty, ship language is Spanish. Yeah this looks—wait, no. What else you got?
What’s wrong with that one?
They’re a dog crew. Once you ship out with a guinea pig gang you’re ruined for other pet preferences.
Maintaining an interstellar community is extraordinarily hard. Even within the human worlds, it is difficult.
The hardest part is disease.
Not so much massive plagues - they are easy to quarantine. The tricky thing is the endemic bugs of each world. The things that could run riot in other biospheres.
Smoothing the spread of such bacteria and virii is initially handled by the scout service, who introduce the most common microflora and fauna to new worlds in a well controlled way. They also manage the outward spread of the new world's biome to neighbouring worlds.
But what about after that? How do you maintain a biome that is not going to kill travellers across tens, let alone hundreds or thousands of worlds?
The answer lies in one of the least formal parts of any major interstellar community.
The tramp trade network.
Small independent traders that move from world to world in small ships, moving relatively slowly, and almost always visiting the surface. Picking up the latest mutations in the local microflora and fauna as an incidental, and releasing the latest from the nearest neighbours.
Keeping the local group more-or-less in sync. And the trade routes overlap, and operate in overlapping spheres.
Yes, if you were to catch a fast ship from one end of a large polity and travel to the other end, you might well get very sick. But if you did it slowly, you would get gradually adapted.
The downside is that most travellers over large distances tend to spend much of their time vaguely unwell.
"Space Flu" they call it, and it is something that affects many long-distance tourists. People discuss solutions for it on the news boards almost constantly, and new treatments are always being touted.
What only a few very well informed people know is that this travelling malaise is a sign that things are working as expected. There will never be a complete cure for it, and it would be a disaster if one were found.
#SF #SFF #SciFi #SpaceOpera #microfiction #tootfic #microfic #IAmWriting
"Right," the professor said.
A bubble formed over her head, with the word neatly written in uppercase letters.
"I invented this to make it easier for students with hearing issues."
A new bubble formed, with that sentence.
Then a third formed, with wobbly border and the text "Unfortunately..."
"Right," the professor said.
A bubble formed over her head, with the word neatly written in uppercase letters.
"I invented this to make it easier for students with hearing issues."
A new bubble formed, with that sentence.
Then a third formed, with wobbly border and the text "Unfortunately..."
This one, it’s perfect. Engineer wanted. Zalman-Weiskopf drive just like your last two ships, a six week loop from here to Zeta Reticuli then on to Rho Persei and back home. That’s a fabulous opportunity; you’d have access to leave on all the planets in the Zeta Herculis group. The beaches of Phi Lupi are unforgettable!
Lemme see. Starship Roberta Flack, ten year old cargo lugger, complement of twenty, ship language is Spanish. Yeah this looks—wait, no. What else you got?
What’s wrong with that one?
They’re a dog crew. Once you ship out with a guinea pig gang you’re ruined for other pet preferences.
"Do you know where I can look up Frungal's Extractor?"
The magic school librarian sighed. "That grimoire is locked away."
"Why?"
"That spell extracts your anxieties and fears and turns them into a creature."
"Yes! To slay!"
"In theory. In practice, nobody can slay the new pet they created."
"Do you know where I can look up Frungal's Extractor?"
The magic school librarian sighed. "That grimoire is locked away."
"Why?"
"That spell extracts your anxieties and fears and turns them into a creature."
"Yes! To slay!"
"In theory. In practice, nobody can slay the new pet they created."
"So, do you have a quest," the witch asked as she finished dressing the last wound, "or doing general adventuring?"
"A quest. I seek a book."
"Ancient tome of forbidden lore?"
"No, one I read as a child."
"And this dragon didn't have it?"
"Alas."
"Have you asked a librarian?"
"They're scary!"
"So, do you have a quest," the witch asked as she finished dressing the last wound, "or doing general adventuring?"
"A quest. I seek a book."
"Ancient tome of forbidden lore?"
"No, one I read as a child."
"And this dragon didn't have it?"
"Alas."
"Have you asked a librarian?"
"They're scary!"
