Some dissent in the ranks at NASA; the man who led the development of the Apollo lunar module has come out in vocal opposition to plans to use explorations of the Moon as a test-bed for eventual manned missions to Mars; instead, he argues for full exploitation of the ISS and further robotic missions to the Red Planet.
Arguments of this type are ten a penny in space politics, which is a landscape of conflicting ideologies; Moon versus Mars, robotic missions versus human missions, and so on. An essay at The Space Review argues that these conflicts are “zero-sum games”, and a waste of energy and resources that could be better expended by the different groups working together toward common goals. Human nature being fundamentally factional, I’m not going to hold my breath just yet. [Image by jurvetson]
Interesting news from my side of the pond, in that the UK government has published a report that recommends it begins to engage fully with grassroots web-based activism and user-created communities online. As that article notes, it’ll take a radical change in attitude for it to succeed, but it’s a relief to know that they’re not completely stuck in the 20th Century any more. I’d like to think that my essay on Government 2.0 had something to do with it, but I’m not quite that deluded.
“His Whore The Vector” by David McGillveray is a dark tale about dictators, revenge and what violence wreaks.
[ IMPORTANT NOTICE: This story is NOT covered by the Creative Commons License that covers the majority of content on Futurismic; copyright remains with the author, and any redistribution is a breach thereof. Thanks. ]
His Whore The Vector
by David McGillveray
The palace was a monstrosity in poured concrete with clumps of antennae bristling from every roof. Nadine was driven to an anonymous side entrance guarded by militiamen and taken inside. The door groaned shut behind her.
Behind the walls, the gardens had been left to wither in the heat. Desiccated roses lay in mass graves and a fine covering of dust clung to every surface. Nadine was led into the cool gloom of the main complex. The slap of her escort’s boots echoed along the maze of corridors: always a different route, always the same destination.
Gerber was waiting: white, white skin untouched by the sun, shaven head and flat, colourless eyes that kept the world out. The European mercenary had been rewarded for his enthusiastic bloodletting a decade ago in the purges with a position heading security for the most notorious butcher of them all. Continue reading HIS WHORE THE VECTOR by David McGillveray