Shine (21 page)

"Solnet," Freddie says, solemnly.

Mike, frustrated: "Solnet was a joke! 'Bringing the future to Torba.' It wasn't meant to--"

"The future," Freddie says, "is here.
We
are the future, Mike. Fuja I stap kam long Sola, Mike."

The future has come to Sola.

They walk along the shore. New buildings rise around them, organic-looking, enormous trees shaped into sheds and houses. Above their heads a small kid glides on a silent kite. Mike says, "You don't
understand
..." but knows it's him who's made the mistake.

Solar panels rotate like sunflowers, following the sun. In the distance, above the hills, a long, thin structure stretches out into the sky. Freddie follows Mike's glance, grins again, says, "Longbin blong spes."

Mike--"A long bean of space?" He remembers long beans. He had tried to grow some in his garden, back then.

Then the meaning sinks in. "You're kidding," he says.

"No," Freddie says, complacently. Away in the distance, the space elevator (if that is really what it is) shimmers in the sunlight.

"What
happened
?" Mike says again. Freddie says, "Melanesian ingenuity." It used to be his favourite buzzword. Still is, it seems. Mike: "Come
on
!"

"Information networks grow exponentially," Freddie says. "We're growing intelligent coral on the other side of the island. You should see it. Organic computing, Mike. The future came, while no one was looking. And now, at last, we're ready. We've been waiting for you--or someone like you--to come."

"Well," Mike says, "I'm here."

They pass rows of bright shops. Where once you could only buy tinned fish and candles, he can see, now the display on offer includes sun-powered gliders, deep-sea infrared goggles, what appears to be coral chunks with I/O ports...

"How would you like a job?" Freddie says. "Head of our Australian Mission, perhaps?"

"What Australian Mission?" Mike says, thinking of the hordes of Australian volunteers, unscrupulous businessmen, embassy staff and others who still populate Port Vila, on the distant capital island of Efate.

"Our new trade and aid mission," Freddie says. "We've decided it's time to export."

"Export."

"Yes. Help the Aussies with their rather backward tech. Buy some prime land out there. We have big plans, Mike. You could be a part of it. A part of the future."

Mike Rowe looks at the sea. Dolphins swim out there, beyond the breakers, and amidst them he thinks he sees a group of children, diving and swimming like fish. Another glider comes over the shore line, from the direction of Port Patteson.

"But the volunteers--" Mike says, and Freddie shakes his head. "No folentia," he says, back in Bislama. "Fifty years of volunteerism--" he makes it sound like a rare type of disease "and what did that get us?"

"Aid!" Mike says. "Projects--"

"Did any of them ever work?"

"Maybe one or two..."

"Yes," Freddie says.

Mike remembers: funding going missing, white men in distant islands trying to dictate 'community development' in places they had never seen... Away in the distance a strange type of ship begins to approach Sola, solar-powered sails opening like graceful wings.

"We've already established trade missions in the Solomons, PNG..." Freddie says. "Australia is next. Then--" he smiles. "Who knows," he says, quietly. Mike Rowe looks at him, looks away. When he looks around he feels blinded by the sun. It was only a joke, he seems to want to say, but the words won't come out. All around him the Solnet Ascendancy rises, and he stands in the middle and stares, and suddenly he can't stop grinning.

"Come on," Fatfat Freddie says affectionately. He takes Mike's arm and begins to lead him away--away towards the bright future, perhaps, wan fuja I braet tumas. "Let me buy you lunch."

Thirty storeys down, the city bustled. Thirty thousand feet up, the wind farms bucked and swooped. Between them, Tom smiled and ate lunch.

--Alasdair Stuart--

Twittering the Stars

Mari Ness

I
n my introduction I already told how much Twitter helped with this anthology--not just with promotion and inspiration, but with helping me find exciting new writers, as well. Mari Ness, though, went the extra mile (140 characters at a time) and sent me a whole story written in Twitter format.

For those of you that don't know Twitter: it's a social website where users are allowed only 140 characters ('including' spaces) per message.

Yes, this can lead to the worst examples of l33tspeak on the net, but also to moments of pure poetry.

And in this case, to an intriguing story, like watching the Universe through a pinhole. Keep in mind that while such pinholes may leave out the whole picture, they can focus relentlessly...

(Note: the story is set up like the Twitter website; that is, the last tweets appear on top, the first on the bottom. So those who like to read a story in chronological order may want to start at the very end (bottom), and read up to the beginning. However, I can assure you that reading it 'into the past' works fine, as well. Probably even better, because then you want to go back up again to enjoy the ride once more.)

I need to sing to the stars again.

five minutes ago from web

Back, finally. More than glad to be home again, more than glad to be walking on real earth, not metal. But I sense I won't be here for long.

five minutes ago from web

Getting ready for landing. Tweet at all of you soon.

about 23 hours ago from distweet

We're not even making a pretense of working now. Just watching the Earth. I keep looking at Texas and crying.

6:48 pm July 3rd from distweet

I keep thinking his voice is haunting me. I'm pretty sure that's not what they want to hear.

11:14 am July 1st from distweet

Still not sure what I'm going to say to T's family.

11:06 am July 1st from distweet

Earth keeps growing in our windows, but so slowly. All of us are pinned to the windows, unable to work, even me.

7:02 pm June 28th from distweet

We both started giggling like little kids. And then we made out.

3:23 pm June 15th from distweet

M came to me yesterday and pulled me to the porthole. "Sing to the stars again," he said, so I did.

3:22 pm June 15th from distweet

Now that we're no longer worried about oxygen needs, my plants are growing like mad. Of course.

5:02 am June 2nd from distweet

Closed myself off from the rest of the group and simply watched my portholes for a long while.

11:58 pm April 16th from distweet

@piehole72 Oh, we stopped talking to each other years ago. Even before the mining, truthfully. And now we're utterly silent.

11:57 pm March 20th
from distweet in reply to @piehole72

I need to hear human voices again.

1:00 pm March 20th from distweet

Burying myself in work. Reporting. Typing. Writing. Nothing else to do, no other way to make these images go away.

3:33 pm December 25th, 2054 from distweet

A poured the rest of the chocolate packs down the waste bin today. Said we had nothing else to celebrate. Thought M would protest, but no.

6:47 pm October 20th, 2054 from distweet

We keep watching each other's skin, but no one says anything.

9:07 am October 16th, 2054 from distweet

A and R tell us fuel and oxygen levels remain at optimum levels. We will get home.

4:02 pm September 30th, 2054 from distweet

@frogheart29 Yes, I'm a botanist and microbiologist, but there's a big jump between that and being a medical doctor.

12:44 pm September 28th, 2054 from distweet in reply to frogheart29

@the28thkarenbear And you saw how well that worked with T, right?

12:43 pm September 28th, 2054 from distweet in reply to the28thkarenbear

@the28thkarenbear And if we do get a response, what do we do?

5:34 am September 26th, 2054 from distweet in reply to the 28thkarenbear

@the28thkarenbear We can take MRIs and X-rays and send the images back and have a radiologist look at them, but we won't get a response for hours.

5:34 am September 26th, 2054 from distweet in reply to the 28thkarenbear

@the28thkarenbear It wasn't enough.

8:02 pm September 24th, 2054 from distweet in reply to the 28thkarenbear

@the28thkarenbear We all took basic med training, but that's it. It doesn't feel like enough.

8:02 pm September 24th, 2054 from distweet in reply to the 28thkarenbear

A convinced she has lumps too. Worst problem with being so far out here is it takes forever to download med info.

4:16 am September 23rd, 2054 from distweet

I shouldn't say this. But what's really upsetting me is not having a doctor around anymore. I keep thinking I have lumps in my breasts.

4:15 am September 23rd, 2054 from distweet

Finding myself really missing T.

4:14 am September 23rd, 2054 from distweet

Busying myself studying the computer analyses of the space DNA, as we're calling it.

4:13 am July 28th, 2054 from distweet

M and I broke up again. It's ok. I need the space.

6:12 pm July 27th, 2054 from distweet

I need to go silent, for awhile.

12:02 pm April 20th, 2054 from distweet

It wasn't like the movies, at all. I thought he'd just float away from us, waving.

12:01 pm April 20th, 2054 from distweet

On company orders, sent T's body out to space.

12:00 pm April 20th, 2054 from distweet

R and I think T should be returned home. A, K and M creeped out by thought.

10:05 pm April 19th, 2054 from distweet

Discussion over what to do with T's body.

10:04 pm April 19th, 2054 from distweet

A ended up sleeping in my bunk with me last night; says she can't be alone right now. I know the feeling.

9:03 am April 18th, 2054 from distweet

I've sealed the damn extraterrestrial DNA with the iridium. Let the company grab it if they're so excited. Everyone agreed with me.

10:21 pm April 17th, 2054 from distweet

Company tells us we're getting additional bonus for discovering first extraterrestrial life. We all feel sick.

7:03 pm April 17th, 2054 from distweet

I'm the damn microbiologist. I should have recognized it sooner.

12:02 am April 15th, 2054 from distweet

@the28thkarenbear @loucheroo @piehole72 @frogheart29 Yes, it is my fault.

12:01 am April 15th, 2054 from distweet

T died.

5:05 am April 12th, 2054 from distweet

K tells me T non responsive. A is trying to see if we can rush home a bit faster, but this far out, a bit faster won't help.

11:03 pm April 11th, 2054 from distweet

Also closed off cyanobacteria tanks to everyone, even me. Can't risk them getting eaten. New lifeform not airborne, so tanks should be safe.

10:26 pm April 11th, 2054 from distweet

Ship may smell but we so need bacteria to grow. If this gets out...

10:22 pm April 11th, 2054 from distweet

While waiting for response from company, stopped all onship sanitation procedures.

10:21 pm April 11th, 2054 from distweet

Sent warning to company anyway. Waiting nervously. R started playing his horror films again and I almost screamed.

9:35 pm April 11th, 2054 from distweet

Tried to run theory by T, but he's too out of it to hear me.

9:34 pm April 11th, 2054 from distweet

So not an infection as you'd call it. But something close to it. Something hungering for the bacteria T needs to live.

9:24 pm April 10th, 2054 from distweet

Every bacteria I put in with the new lifeforms gets eaten. Immediately. New thought: T is dying because his bacteria are dying.

9:21 pm April 10th, 2054 from distweet

Prepared quick batch of staph and added it to a container with the new lifeforms. Two hours later, bacteria gone.

3:34 pm April 10th, 2054 from distweet

But I keep looking, and, impossible or not: his tissues have the new lifeforms, and almost no bacteria.

2:28 am April 10th, 2054 from distweet

It's impossible. ALL human organs contain bacteria.

2:37 am April 10th, 2054 from distweet

Just noted something from T's tissue samples: they're almost completely bacteria free. How could I not notice this?

2:36 am April 10th, 2054 from distweet

It's an alien lifeform. I can't figure out how to counter it. I don't think we have time to test drugs and possible poisons.

10:32 pm April 9th, 2054 from distweet

This thing--I know under the circumstances this will sound awful. But under my microscope, it's utterly beautiful.

5:05 am April 9th, 2054 from distweet

T's breathing labored. M yelling at me to stay with him. I think the better bet is to try to find some bacteria that will eat this thing.

5:03 am April 9th, 2054 from distweet

We think it's entered all of his organs. I sealed off the room, though T thinks it only attacks in the utter cold of deep space.

4:59 pm April 8th, 2054 from distweet

K with T now, all suited up. Took tissue samples back to lab for study.

2:05 pm April 8th, 2054 from distweet

T delirious and having breathing problems.

6:05 am April 8th, 2054 from distweet

R set up cam in T's room so doctors on Earth can have continuous delayed stream, but of course it's hours too late. T our only doctor.

5:04 am April 8th, 2054 from distweet

Been throwing up for hours. K screaming that I botched the amputation.

4:32 am April 8th, 2054 from distweet