Building on last week’s post about a machine or tribe of them made in China, I thought to address the nation-states of my future history. I break them out as “Failed,” “Floundering,” “Polar Alliance,” and “Other.” This is one of my longest yet, eighteen minutes, as I have to circle to globe to get everyone in.
As I say at the closing, if anyone has questions or comments or wants more information about what I’ve mentioned, please let me know in the Comments.
We learn a little more about the Russian imperial children – adult children – who will be on this Martian Holiday. There’s already drama from the youngest but they seem to be getting on. They’d better: trapped in a tin can for a week.
I’ve got a lot on my plate again for the second half of the summer, more of this story, finishing recording and editing of “Foes & Rivals,” as well as my podcasts. Going to my DayJob is now just an annoyance.
A listener posited the question: what if one or a tribe of the machines had been coded in China; communist China. As a DayJob colleague pointed out “you cannot order a bubble tea in China without it going onto your social credit score.”
What would that imply for an AI? I pursue that question. I think it would end poorly.
After a very short flight, followed by a contested parking spot, Laszlo finds himself walking along the southern branch of the Neva River in St. Petersburg. I’ve never been there but have heard from many that it is a beautiful city. Someday, when my books are optioned into movies, I’ll take a chartered flight; commercial flights are more and more a dry-run for slavery.
As you will shortly see, the PM of Imperial Russia, Reina, stomps onto the stage. First among equals of tribe Mendrovovitch and possibly the most dangerous of all Machines, she also attacks my stories like kudzu: taking over and displacing everything which was already there. And from the last line below the fold, it seems she is in for most of this part of the novel. Oh, well. What can I do?
With so much of my time spent talking, either the new podcasts or slogging through the chapters of “Foes & Rivals” audiobook raws, I have neglected manuscript updates. Time to rectify that. With Kentucky Province now added to Faustina’s imperium, there is still a little more work for “Bob Hardt” and his intel group to do; that is, sounding points west of Frankfort. The center of gravity there is Bardstown, a going concern for nearly 300 years. Taken aside by his CO, Robert is almost but not quite called out as to just who the hell he is.
A special guest appearance! This is only the second time I’ve seen Fussy in-person in this novel. She was playful when messaging Robert through his tablet but is a much harder person in the flesh. I wonder if being an absolute monarch wears at her? She almost sounds relieved to think someone else will have the burden of the incorporation of the Midwest. And, just who might be her heir?
This is the conclusion of what will be chapter ten. There’s one more, with Centurion Hill taking his team further west then up to the Ohio River, but that’s another day. Please look forward to my next podcast, in two days; I’ll be getting into the details of the Machines of Machine Civilization.
And just like a bad penny or a case of herpes, Sky is back again. Do I have to metaphorically spray Roundup on my story to get rid of her? At least she’s made her decision and is Roland’s problem, now.
The locals, not knowing what, or rather who is coming, Centurion Hill pressures Deke Webb into his decision, too.
Another meeting but it also offers readers a peek into the neo-feudalistic structure of the imperium. If some of the NPCs in the story have trouble wrapping their heads around it, I expect my readers to, as well. But I’ve never been one for huge blocks of exposition. I’m sure more will come out in some conversation in the future.
If I have to explain things, well, that like having to read the instructions to a game; by definition, that’s a failed game.
Which is itself a joke. Normies think “economics” majors must study tons and tons of math. Hah. Most of them cannot add or subtract. I would trust astrology and reading bird entrails before any PhD of Economics. Politicians get crosses; I’ll give econs a clean death at the drop of a rope, just because I’m a nice person.
It seems that Prince Edward has twigged to this fact. Race > Culture > Politics.