Who you are depends on what World you've learned.

kw: book reviews, science fiction, interstellar colonization, first contact, posthumanism

About five years ago, walking in the park with my wife, I saw two little girls—third grade age or younger—running and skipping along, while talking on cell phones. I said to my wife, "In ten years or so, we won't buy cell phones. They'll be installed just behind the ear from birth. You'll tell them who to call." It will probably be quite a bit more than another five years, but I believe people will have built-in communications available in my lifetime. We just need to get speech recognition into a chip the size of a fingernail, powered by body heat (the 5° difference between core and skin).

My father's pacemaker, just a bit bigger than a man's wristwatch case, has some of the enabling technologies. It communicates by low-power radio with the doctor's computer (only within the office at present), can be reprogrammed easily, and has a five-year battery life. Newer models' batteries can be recharged by an induction loop (you need to do slow, overnight charging, to avoid excessive heating).

Fast-forward fourteen thousand years, at least. The humans of Earthly origin in Learning the World by Ken MacLeod, have Virtualities and other services, delivered by a synergy between circuits in their heads and public carrier services. The cell phone has morphed into an experience as immersive as you'd like. That is but one good idea from this book.

Another is fully translating the words and lives of two mutually alien species. Consider this: How would you translate, «Cette phrase est écrite en français», from French to English? There are valid arguments for translating it either "This sentence is written in French" or "This sentence is written in English." A certain novel, with dramatic tension based on the historic animosity between French and German people, and written in French, has been translated into several languages (sorry, I don't recall the title, just the story). The action takes place years into one of the occupations of France by Germany. It contains a number of short German phrases, and some phonetic dialog in French with a German accent. One wise translator, rendering the book into Polish, substituted Russians and Russian for the Germans and their language, and used phonetic dialog of Polish spoken with a Russian accent! It is by all accounts the most effective of the translations, because a Polish person reading it feels the same feelings a French person feels when reading the original French novel.

I have read many science fiction novels written from the viewpoint of interstellar aliens. Even in those most sympathetic to the nonhuman protagonists, there is a tendency to have them call themselves something like "Gvorch", and speak sentimentally about "gvorchkind". Often, the English language is distorted, and maintains thus a consciousness in the reader that the "alien" is really alien.

Ken MacLeod will have none of that. Both species' words and thoughts are presented in clear, straightforward English (except when the person is being deceptive). Both call themselves "human", "man", "woman". From the first transmission of images and sound until the two kinds of people meet, each thinks of the other in quite a xenophobic way, mixing fascination with disgust.

Actually, the batlike residents of the planet Ground are more cohesive and uniform than the interstellar travelers from the vicinity of Earth. The ship has three populations: Founders, parents of the Ship generation, which is the second, and Crew. The founders have been aboard for four centuries, as have the crew. But the crew live in free-fall, in a section of the habitat having an ecology adapted to microgravity, while the founders live in the rotating section of the ship. The ship generation is trained to colonize and settle an asteroid belt, and perhaps the occasional planet, though they are more comfortable in enclosed spaces. Once a system is colonized, the ship will go onward, with some of each population switching allegiance so that some ship generation become founders to the next colony trip, a few founders and crew remain behind, and so forth. There are more details, of course, but this gives a bit of a flavor.

Another good idea: the stock market. The ship is full of futures traders, and their fortunes wax and wane based on perceptions of which colony segments will do better or worse.

And another: that the spread of a planetary race into its home system gradually changes the color of its star, perceived from afar. Freeman Dyson posited that a really advanced society would gradually englobe its star with solar-powered orbiting habitats, changing it to an infrared-emitting body. MacLeod instead expects the plant life of largely transparent orbiting habitats will make the star greener. This has implications in the progress of the story.

A word on morals: While the story is a morality play, the characters are amoral as regards sex. This is the most consistent characteristic of science fiction since the 1960s, so is unremarkable, but must be borne in mind.

I read because of ideas. Ideas are our most powerful tools and weapons. This novel is packed with both new ideas older ideas further developed. Hands down, it is the best-thought-out story of interstellar colonization I've read.

...and what do you do with the Indians?

kw: book reviews, science fiction, interstellar colonization, space aliens

When Columbus discovered Hispaniola (today's Haiti and Dominican Republic), the indigenous people there seemed to be in a "state of nature," almost a pre-Eden condition. He wrote that they were "en Dios", "in God," apparently innocent and lacking any civilization that he could recognize. That didn't stop him from making plans to enslave them.

English-speakers, knowing he'd set out to find India, mistook his epithet and began to use the term "Indians" for indigenous Americans. Regardless of modern PC terms like "Native American" and "Amerind," at least a large minority of Euro-americans (myself included) tend to apply the term "Indians," at least in our thoughts. The fact that I am part Iroquois (1/32 or less) myself doesn't have much to do with my internal life; I was raised entirely Western.

Whatever people called them, the European colonists and their descendants didn't consider pre-European Americans fully human for several centuries...and some still don't.

Of all the interesting ideas in Allen Steele's Coyote series, the most touching, to me, is the status of the natives on the planet Coyote. I've just read Coyote Frontier, a space-opera twist on American Independence. Steele does his best to show that the earthling colonists are the real aliens here. Though they are the focus of the action—this is mainly a political book—the colonists' leaders in the end have just begun to acknowledge that the monkey-like chirreep might be people, too.

The earlier books, Coyote and Coyote Rising, dealt with the exploration of the new planet and the revolution needed to hold it. It pretty much covers a period similar to the Americas from 1491 to 1777, but compressed into a generation. The new book is analogous to the 1789-1815 period, the second war of independence, brought on when the new English mastery of the seas, and faster sailing craft, led them to try to assert sovereignty again in North America.

In Coyote Frontier, the second revolution is brought on by the invention of the Starbridge, which allows a starship to zip through a specially-created wormhole. Now that one can go between Earth and Coyote in days rather than decades, what is the outcome? Steele digs into this problem, producing a solution for Coyote that is still being worked out for America.

The ending takes a sidestep, and the future of the chirreep, for one, is left undetermined. There is plenty left for Steele to write about, should he wish to turn the trilogy into a longer series.