Science Fiction Experiment: Pilgrimage

Okay, so I was late delivering this story to a contest and still have an issue with my employer not allowing me to do freelance writing for money. So, as a compromise, I continue to write for the public, but for the sheer love of the work (it sure as heck isn't the pay). Also, paying authors are posting stories online, and they insist that it doesn't hurt their sales. Since I don't have any SF sales anyway (yet), a free release of a story couldn't hurt. This also offers the opportunity for me to fix the story before I try to sell it. I could even expand this into something longer. Opinions welcome.

***

"Pilgrimage"

Loretta McNamara assumed that lack of food was reawakening her normally dormant spiritual self, but her first view of Hertzsprung Monastery took her back to her childhood like a whiff of incense. Lighted on all sides by work lights of several colors, the Monastery huddled at the utmost southern edge of a crater on the Far Side of the Moon. The grey-desert landscape was torn by unusual violence, as a flight of asteroids had smashed Hertzsprung’s southern rim, leaving behind a nearly straight line of craters like the strafing of a machine gun. It was not the most promising place to make a land deal, but the Moon’s crust held treasure that more than made up for its magnificent desolation.
In the midst of this punished, ashen land soared a cross glowing with unearthly light. The sight it nearly caused her to fall to her knees. She prodded herself to quick action, lest she have some emotional outburst that she’d regret later.
A chime in her ear bud informed her that she had an incoming call, audio only. “This is Hertzsprung Monastery, Brother Anthony speaking. Pardon my asking, sister, but are you nuts to walk all the way here? You could’ve just called for a repair crew to meet you out of Hegel.”
She realized the strangeness of her quest, the unusual earnestness that had pushed her to make the three-day hike to the monastery after her crawler broke down. Would her partners at McNamara He-3 believe that she’d pushed herself this far just for the chance to take something out of the hide of the Unified Catholic Orthodox Church?
Loretta continued huffing her way toward the monastery. “Just…leave a light on when I get there…okay, brother?”
Her sarcasm vibrated unmistakably over the radio. Brother Anthony sounded wounded as he said, “Yes, ma’am,” and clicked off.

She signaled the monastery again, and a set of lights blinked on for her as promised, guiding her to an airlock at the base of a low ridge, directly below the cross. She left the supply sledge outside and entered. She’d dragged it behind her for three days, carrying as it did food, water, and power for her NanoSuit.
Loretta patiently rode out the seven-minute cycling process. She located the appropriate control on her Wiki, and the microfibers in her suit repelled most of the lunar dust, which was sucked away into the lock’s vacuum filters.
A man a few years older than Loretta greeted her in formal white robes emblazoned with a golden cross with a loop at the top. Brother Anthony, she presumed. Aside from her matted hair and slightly thinner frame, she’d come through her ordeal rather well. Anthony’s own hair was cut in the most ridiculous bowl cut Loretta had ever seen, topped as it was by a shaved spot in a—what was the word? Tonsure. “Hi there,” said the man, who had an impressive bulk to him and kindly gray eyes beneath bushy brows. “I’m Brother Anthony.”
Loretta gulped. “Well enough. I need to see the Abbot immediate—” Loretta’s legs caved in and her vision collapse to a fuzzy point, not allowing her to finish her sentence.
#
When she came to, Anthony was wiping her face down with a cold cloth and holding a bulb of water. “You okay?”
Loretta heard the concern in Brother Anthony’s voice. “Sorry,” she said, gulping the offered bulb. The spotlight of her vision widened again, but she felt curiously detached from her body. Anthony helped her up, which was easy enough in the low gravity. Standing wasn’t quite the chore it might have been otherwise. Still, Loretta felt like she had after a particularly hot day at Kingston Heath. She wondered idly if Alan Shepard had ever played golf there when she heard Anthony speaking at a distance.
“..service begins in about two hours. You’ll have time to eat and clean yourself, if you’ll follow me. We have refresher cubicles right down the hall. Are you Catholic?”
Exhaustion kept her from lying: “Lapsed.”
“Pity. Still, that means you’ll know all the Catholic aerobics, yes?” She grudgingly allowed Anthony to reach under her arm and lead her to the ‘fresher. She did not like the idea of being indebted to one of the Brothers so soon in her negotiations.
“When you’re ready, I’ll be out here. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” Loretta was too tired to notice the flirty banter. “There are energy bars and water inside, too. Best get yourself in order so you don’t pass out in front of the Abbot.”
Loretta nodded. “Thanks.” Then she retreated to the refresher cubicle to collapse.
#
The Unified Christian service shifted between Latin, Greek, and English. Loretta hadn’t heard it since she was 13—the last time she’d been to mass. Father-Abbot Agyeman (“AJ-uh-man,” she reminded herself) gave a homily emphasizing thankfulness as the brothers and sisters greeted the return of the Sun to their skies. It was afternoon by Universal Time, but Hertzsprung Monastery apparently held “morning services” when it was literally morning on the Moon.
Loretta followed along with the “aerobics” (sit, stand, kneel), and her mouth, hands, and arms remembered the proper movements as Father-Abbot Agyeman spoke the old words of the liturgy. Feeling like a spy, she glanced furtively around her, using the transceiver in her skull to store notes about the room, people, and service into her phone. She looked up, when she heard Agyeman suggest that man’s sojourn in space might be a means to his salvation on Earth. That was something new. Perhaps she was wrong to be so brusque with Anthony.
The chapel was a typical barrel vault structure, whitewashed and very smooth. The presence of women surprised her at first, before she recalled that the monastery included both Ecumenical Brothers of the Order of St. Francis and lay brothers and sisters, who were mechanics, house staff, scientists, and engineers assigned to operate and repair the telescopes and solar power plants ringing the equator further south. All Christian, of course. The chapel was full, and aside from one yawner, the group seemed attentive to what Agyeman had to say.
The closing of the service shook Loretta. The hymns were in English or Greek, except for the last, which was a recording of a Gregorian chant that had been old a thousand years ago. As the recorded all-male voices sang, the walls slowly transformed from cave-like smoothness to become a star-filled sky. The wall behind the altar, like the chapel walls and ceiling, was a vid screen, creating the illusion of a crashing sea with its sky just transforming from night to dawn. As the voices rose to their crescendo, the cross behind the altar blazed with light, becoming both rising sun and source of inspiration. For a moment, she thought she even heard waves and gulls above the sonorous voices. Her breath caught, and only a supreme act of will kept her from crossing herself. No, they’ll not win me over that easily.
A thrill of anger flushed Loretta’s cheeks before she shook her head clear of the sensation, disturbed by how easily she had fallen into old religious behaviors she had thought safely buried and forgotten. The Business Analyst in her took over: Of course they would need something like this—spectacle or no, FX or no, the sight of the sea would remind them all where they came from.
After the service, the parishioners exited in silence, doing little to conceal their curious glances toward her. Loretta waited for everyone to leave before exiting. She gazed back once more at the cross behind the altar and the Romanesque walls, reassuring herself that it was only a room.
She found Anthony waiting for her. “What’d you think?”
“Impressive,” she admitted.
“But?”
“Okay, if you must know, it seemed a bit showy. Like something they’d do at Disney Moon.”
“At least you remembered all the words.” Loretta blushed, curiously ashamed of being found out. “You ready for your meeting?”
“Sure. Where is the Father-Abbot?”
“Back in his office, girding his loins for battle, no doubt.”
Loretta gave Anthony a curious glance as they moved briskly through the corridors. She tried to copy Anthony’s distance-devouring lope-hop, but her exhaustion was catching up with her. She remembered her grandfather’s lessons on that score: if you fall, let it happen with some dignity. You’ve got time to recover. She concentrated on slowing her strides well before turning in the lower gravity. “I beg your pardon?”
“Well, pardon my saying so, Ms…”
“Loretta will be fine.”
“Okay. Pardon my saying so, Ms. Loretta-Will-Be-Fine, but we don’t get a lot of corporate types here. If we do, it’s probably bad news. You know that your company’s competitors have been calling us for the last year.”
“Ever since the Kokradi Survey of the equatorial belt, of course. If the Survey is correct, Korolev Crater has the largest Helium 3 deposit on the Moon—nearly 30 parts per billion—enough to provide Earth fusion power for…well, decades.”
“Do you really need to use that site? The Moon still isn’t fully explored yet.”
Loretta shrugged, feigning innocence. “It’s not my fault that it’s on Church property. I’m just trying to negotiate a fair price for it.”
“I wonder,” said Anthony.
Best to deflect him for now, Loretta decided. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Yes, I’m seriously pledged to celibacy.”
Loretta blushed. “No, I wasn’t going to ask that, though now that you mention it, you don’t seem very, uh, monkish. Uh, no offense.”
“None taken. Spent a couple years as a bouncer while at Michigan. You learn how to talk to people.”
“Ah.”
They reached the end of one corridor, entering a three-level atrium that gave Loretta the feeling of being in a mall. The walk from the chapel had been like exploring well-kept Spanish catacombs. Anthony tapped her on the elbow, gesturing toward the elevator bank to her right.
Loretta asked, “Actually, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were trying to pick me up.”
“If you knew any better, you wouldn’t have had to ask. My libido is completely under control, Loretta-Will-Be-Fine.” The elevator opened onto a much smaller chamber, presumably the outer waiting room of the Father-Abbot’s office. “And here we are. As you can see, we’ve both arrived with our virtue intact.”
“Why are you acting this way, Anthony?”
“Because I like you, Loretta-Will-Be-Fine. And I figure maybe if you like me and like this place well enough, you might think twice before doing something you’ll regret.” Turning his attention away from her, Brother Anthony addressed the frowning, grey-tonsured man at the desk beside a crimson-painted door. The Father-Abbot’s secretary, she presumed. This was the priest—Father MacCallum, she recalled—who had prevented her from talking to the Abbot by vid and had refused multiple electronic meetings until she had forced the issue by arriving on the monastery’s doorstep.
“Father MacCallum? Loretta McNamara.”
“Yes, Ms. McNamara. Please be seated. Brother Anthony, thank you for bringing her here. You may return to your labors.”
“And a good thing, too,” said Anthony, patting his paunch. “This baby could download at any minute.” Loretta stifled another laugh, but not before remembering Friar Tuck from an old 2-D Robin Hood movie Grandpa made her watch once. Anthony wasn’t making her task easier. She hadn’t expected to like any of these people.
Father MacCallum did not smile. Anthony saluted. “See you later, Loretta-Will-Be-Fine. I’ll be on Sublevel 2 if you get into trouble.”
“Thanks, Anthony.” MacCallum’s frown deepened at her familiarity, but he said nothing. Loretta assumed a seat on a couch that looked at least 400 years old, but up close proved to be newly made.
When the elevator doors closed, MacCallum shook his head. “I sincerely apologize for Brother Anthony’s behavior. He’s a brilliant engineer, but his manners are deplorable.”
“He’s new here, then?”
“Alas, no. Brother Anthony has been with us for ten years. I’ve regretted nine of them. You may go in now. The Father-Abbot is expecting you.”
Loretta rolled her eyes and stood. The old games never change. Keep the girl waiting, let her know who’s in charge. Pretending that this was not, in fact, what was happening, she stood, forced a smile, and said, “Thank you.” It was easy to hate Father MacCallum, anyway.
Father MacCallum, who had done much to convey his mutual disapproval of her, likewise smiled and pretended that she was being sincere. The forms must be obeyed, Loretta thought as she strode toward the red doors of her enemy’s abode.
#
Loretta put travel exhaustion and Brother Anthony’s gruff flirtations behind her. She put on her Business Face, strode forward to shake the hand of Father-Abbot James Michael Agyeman. She presented her card, ignoring his thirty-centimeter height advantage, and met his gaze as an equal. Indeed, from a corporate chain-of-command point of view, they very nearly were. And they were here to talk business.
“Executive Vice President of Business Development. Very impressive, I’m sure. I am afraid I do not follow Earth titles well. May I call you Ms. McNamara?” The timbre of Agyeman’s voice was deep, and oriental-seeming features made him difficult to read. Loretta could not decide whether or not to take offense.
She nodded. “Certainly.”
“Please sit down, Ms. McNamara. May I offer you some refreshment?”
The question won over her stomach, which jumped and growled for food. “Water, please. And something with fruit in it, if you can spare it.”
Agyeman gestured to Father MacCallum, who bowed and retreated. Loretta engaged Agyeman in small talk, guessing rightly that no business would be conducted until MacCallum closed the doors.
She noted the Abbot’s office furnishings: a curious mix of Italian Renaissance and African Revival. The carpet was a deep, rich red, edged with green, black, and gold embroidery, and the room was quite a bit warmer than anywhere else in the monastery. A shield door on the far wall concealed a window. If Loretta had her bearings right, that window faced south, toward the chapel, the glittering cross, and Hertzsprung’s outer rim wall.
A wall cabinet displayed long spears with tips and shafts broken—gestures of peace?—arrayed on either side of a gold cross aglitter with diamonds. The Abbot smiled and gestured for her to examine them.
Agyeman himself bypassed the need for a tonsure by shaving his head bald. His form was lean, and despite his towering presence looked shorter than he had on the pulpit. He might be a mature 30 or a fit 60. He was by no means the first black priest she had seen—there were old jokes about African missionaries coming over to convert the West—but the first one she’d met. His neatly pressed black clerical robes, like others’ in the monastery, had been cut to business jacket length to fit under a spacesuit.
“That cabinet is my one affectation. The assegais were a gift to the Church from the government of Zimbabwe after the overthrow of Mugabe.”
“And the cross?”
“The gold was from South Africa. The diamonds were found by the second Altair Expedition in 2021, near the Taurus-Littrow Valley.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“And priceless. But then many businesses believe that everything has a price, do they not?” Loretta frowned and said nothing. The comment had been made without malice, even a smile, but Agyeman’s tone betrayed a firmness that confirmed her suspicions: the tough part of this trip is just beginning.
The uncomfortable silence was interrupted by Father MacCallum arriving with a tumbler of water, two glasses, and two small bowls of raspberry sherbet. The priest shrugged. “Fresh raspberries are not in season yet.”
Loretta smiled. “Thank you,” she said, again forcing the sincerity into her voice. She had not yet made up her mind about Agyeman, but her arm hairs bristled whenever MacCallum was in the room. Covering the flash of emotion, she sat across from Agyeman at his side table. She downed the first glassful of water. Agyeman poured her a second glass, a sign to MacCallum that he was dismissed from further service. He bowed again, marched to the old-style hinge doors, and closed them behind him. She saw the airtight dogging wheel spin to seal the room. Now it was just the two of them.
“Shall we discuss your business, then?” Agyeman asked.
“Certainly. I won’t waste your time, Father. I am here about the Kokradi Survey. No doubt you’ve heard from the Bishop at Malapert. Dr. Kokradi has found a deposit of helium-3 in the basin of Korolev crater. Quite a lot of it, actually. Something like 20 thousand metric tons. My company would like to establish a mining base there.”
“You realize that SpaceX and Nova Luna have already contacted us, I presume?”
“Yes, sir. I also understand that the negotiations broke down on both occasions. I’m here to make a better offer.”
The Abbot’s eyebrow rose a fraction, perhaps the greatest show of genuine emotion Loretta had seen on his face. “You’re obviously assuming that money was the issue.”
The disapproval in his voice was keen, but he did not elaborate further. Loretta pressed on. “I have to tell you, Father, that this trip was strictly my own idea. My partners think I’m off my thruster. In fact, if I’m unsuccessful, I’m likely to be unemployed soon after this meeting.”
“Do you expect this to move my decision?”
“No, sir. I just want you to understand that I’m serious. If this was a normal business venture, my company would’ve spent months infiltrating your organization, gathering intel, and learning how the game is played. We don’t have the time or resources for that. And, quite frankly, we couldn’t find anyone willing to go undercover to infiltrate the Hagia Sofia.”
Agyeman’s sharp laugh barked again, this time reverberating into actual laughter. “Very well, Ms. McNamara. You have convinced me of your seriousness. No one else would have gone to so much trouble to reach this monastery. Or to look this foolish.” Loretta blushed. All in or all out, Grandfather might have said.
“Would you be willing to educate me—educate us—on how to work with the Church? If money isn’t the issue, what is? We have techniques that minimize damage or interference with your telescopes on the equator. Any work we do would comply with the Lunar Landscape Treaty…”
Agyeman held up his hand for silence. “Ms. McNamara, Before I answer you, may I take the liberty of asking a personal question?”
Loretta felt her throat tighten and swallow, dry despite the water. “I suppose.”
“You seem more than a little eager to get this piece of territory from the Church.”
“I believe I explained my reasons…”
“Yes, but I find them insufficient. There are other craters on other parts of God’s Moon, many on the Near Side. Yet you take it upon yourself to come here in person, to negotiate a deal to get this particular crater from the Church, at the risk of your own career and your own well-being, from what Brother Anthony tells me. I am forced to wonder why.”
The words hung like a magic spell in the air. Loretta said nothing. She was not prepared for anyone to question her motives for the deal.
Agyeman continued, “Would it surprise you to learn that you are the first person from one of the lunar development companies to visit this office?”
“A-a little.”
“That was why Father MacCallum and I were surprised at insistence for this meeting. We had already had sufficient communications with people via television or any other technology. We thought our ‘no’ was quite clear. And yet here you are.” The silence lengthened, and Agyeman briefly retreated, as if he had all day to gore this particular bull. “May I show you something?”
“Certainly.”
They rose and walked to the window shield. Agyeman touched a control to reveal the ridge line with its glittering cross, the line of crater hits running northwest to southeast, the flame-shaped outcropping to the south, and the rim wall far beyond.
“This is the Church’s domain. We came and built here because no one else wanted it or thought it worth ‘investing in.’ We built the monastery and the Lunar Telescope Array through the offerings of three billion parishioners when the International Space Authority wouldn’t. A hundred brothers and sisters built bricks out of lunar regolith and precious imported water, under the worst possible conditions, before your people discovered ice under Malapert Mountain. We provided something your people wanted—the telescope array—and in turn we asked for one place in God’s creation where the world of men would not infringe on the work of the Church. Now you discover that we have something you want, and you want the Church to move. Your Australian Aborigines faced a similar dilemma two hundred years ago.”
Loretta felt heat color her cheeks, but again held her tongue. She had unconsciously put her legs into a fighting stance, as if prepared for an attack. Her hand tightened, cracking her plastic phone.
“I am forced to conclude that this mission is a personal one for you. Brother Anthony informed me that you are what Americans call a ‘lapsed’ Catholic. You know our rites. You were once one of us. And yet now you come here as a stranger, demanding something of the Church as if you scarcely knew her, or knew her as an enemy. If you refuse to deal straightly with me, I will be forced to ask you to leave. Now, would you care to explain yourself?”
“We are not threatening you, Father.”
“Aren’t you? If the third time’s a charm, as the Americans say, what will you and your competitors do if the Church refuses your offer?”
“I don’t—”
“If you don’t know, your partners do, I assure you. They will lobby your International Space Agency or your local national governments and get them to force the Church to accept your mining franchise on land that is legally ours. I can tell you right now, that if you attempt such an act, you will fail. When the Church lost its tax-exempt status, we gained the rights of a private property holder. And private property is the one tradition your Western governments still treat as sacred. You will find that there are some very eminent lawyers who will be willing to plead our case in the World Court. And some powerful media figures will cover every moment of it.”
Loretta bit her lip, seeing her leverage evaporate before his anger. “The Church is thinking about the next step after this one, aren’t they?”
Agyeman nodded. “The Curia and the Patriarchy have both suffered their share of scoundrels over the centuries. But we haven’t lasted nearly 2,100 years by being complete fools. Earth can send their best and brightest. They can send an attractive young woman full of anger but no sense of guile to negotiate with us, but it will not matter. As hungry as your world is for more power, we will not back down on this. Do you understand? We—will—not—accept! ‘For, as I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven.’”
There was something primal, commanding, and yes, God-like about the threat in his voice. Loretta backed away from Agyeman’s anger, even as a voice in her head noted, he’s quoting Philippians. She sensed the negotiations were failing and she had to make a move fast. “I’m—I’m sorry, Father.”
“No, you are not. It was written upon your face from the moment you collapsed in our airlock. You might feel yourself an irresistible force, but the Church is an immovable object, and we will not budge. I believe you hoped these negotiations fail. I believe you wanted the Church humbled and its possession taken from it.” Loretta lapsed back to her blank, professional expression. It didn’t help. Agyeman raised his arm and pointed his finger at the door. “Get out of here. I will not treat with a liar.”
Loretta spun the dogging wheel, tugged the door open, and marched into the foyer, not bothering to look in Father MacCallum’s direction.
Agyeman strode in his proud way toward MacCallum, his features controlled, but jaw working to restrain a mighty anger. From the elevators, she saw MacCallum’s small, tight mouth stretch victoriously into a smile as he said, “Her mission has failed, then.”
The Abbot nodded, his dark eyes seeking depths unseen by his subordinate. “The mission she came for is not her true mission. But you are right: she has failed.”
#
“The mission she came for is not her true mission.” What did that mean? What the hell was he talking about? Disoriented and fearful, Loretta entered the elevator and paused for a long beat before deciding where to go next. She settled on the one person who had given her a word of encouragement.
Sublevel 2, below the mall, housed a secured area for authorized personnel. The Hagia Sofia Security seal outside the elevators stated as such. Loretta stomped to the airtight glass door, pressed the call button, heard muffled chimes ring in the hallway beyond.
Brother Anthony’s head peeked out of a doorway, then he loped toward the door, spun the hatch wheel like a lunatic helmsman, and opened it cautiously.
“Ooo, there’s a happy face.”
“Don’t be cute, Anthony. I really screwed up with Father Agyeman.”
“Obviously. Father MacCallum just messaged me. Come on in. We’re wrapping up our CDR.”
Anthony bowed low as he gestured her through the door. He was trying his best to make her laugh. He succeeded partially: she unclenched her balled fists.
Inside the conference room were three bedraggled and happy-looking engineers sitting around the table, gazing at the image on the room’s HyperBoard with satisfied grins. The room showed signs of other occupants, cluttered as it was with coffee cups and pens. “Lady and gentlemen, I would like you to meet Loretta McNamara from McNamara Hee-3. Ms. McNamara, Dr. Bakayoko from M.I.T., Dr. Lo from the University of Beijing, and Dr. Chavali from the University of Bangalore.” They all looked too exhausted to do more than rise from their seats and bow.
“You want us to explain what we’ve been up to?” Asked Dr. Bakayoko.
“No, not yet,” interrupted Brother Anthony. “You’re the smart lady, Loretta. You figure it out.”
Loretta ignored the “smart lady” crack and walked around the table to the schematic on the HyperBoard. Her first impression of the image was a metallic squid or a magnified virus, with several tentacle-like legs at one end and a pod of some sort at the other. “It’s a spacecraft, right?”
“Okay, fine. What else?”
“Well, the legs look awfully spindly for landing on Earth—or even the Moon, for that matter.” A smile returned to her voice as she found that her brain still worked. “Wait a minute. This is an asteroid miner, right? That’s what that spike at the mouth is—some sort of drill.”
“You said she wouldn’t guess it,” Dr. Lo said to Anthony, throwing a wadded piece of paper at him. “You owe me five sols.”
Loretta ignored him, turning to Anthony. “Why are you showing me this?”
Anthony said, “To take your mind off things. Feeling better?”
“A little,” she said aloud. Whispering, she said, “Anthony, I really need some advice here.” Her ear bud chirped. A new message was transmitted from Cousin Mike—Grandpa’s namesake and CEO of McNamara He-3—directly to her implant: We can’t have you alienating the Church this way, Loretta. The rest of the cousins want your resignation on my desk. Today.
#
Anthony led Loretta back up to the mall. She had remained stubbornly silent since the message from Mike.
“Now what, sister?”
“If I go home now, I’m voided. No deal, no job, no prospects. This isn’t exactly the best day of my life.” Swallowing, Loretta said, “I need to talk to Father Agyeman again. Explain.”
“I don’t think you’ll be able to, not directly. Father MacCallum isn’t likely to open the doors for you.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. So what do I do? Trip wires in the hallway? Ambush Agyeman on the way to the ‘fresher?”
Anthony rolled his eyes at her obvious impatience. “There is only one path to salvation, but never just one path to forgiveness. The Lord writes straight with crooked lines.”
“Careful, Anthony. You’re starting to sound like a monk there.”
Anthony shrugged. “Hey, I’m not just another pretty face. But you have to make the call. There’s always one place you can find Father Agyeman, if you really want to settle this.” And with that, Anthony pressed a rosary into her hand and left Loretta to her thoughts.
#
Loretta wandered the clean, arched corridors for several hours, opening and closing her fists to give her hands something to do. “I can’t cave, damn it,” she muttered to no one in particular, “I can’t.” A couple of passers-by raised their eyebrows at her outburst, but said nothing and went about their business. Monasteries, like spacecraft and submarines, had few secrets.
Loretta reached a hallway that dead-ended onto a window with a bench. She flopped down upon the thin cushions and stared at the twisted cliffs beyond the window and the starless black sky above them. She remembered her first tourist excursion with Grandpa to Tranquility Park: airy bouncing in the luxury of her own, child-size spacesuit. Grandpa Mike moved more cautiously, pointing to the nearby splash craters. “It’s not like Earthly beauty, Loretta. Even Aldrin and Armstrong recognized that. The Moon has to be taken on her own terms or not at all.”
The Church had denied Grandpa his eternal rest, but now his own words offered her a chance to reconcile with it. She knew now what she had to do.
#
Loretta found the confessional near the chapel. The booth had its own door seal and hatch. She entered the dimly lit booth, dogged the seal, and assumed an air of penitence she didn’t quite feel. She dropped onto the kneeler near the speaking grille, which apparently cued the priest to open the speaking door on his side. “B-bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been twenty years since my last confession.”
Father Agyeman’s surprised, deep voice wafted through the grille. “Speak of your sin, daughter.”
“I have been angry at the Church for a long time.”
“That much is obvious. What caused this anger?”
“The Church refused to bury my grandfather, Michael, on consecrated ground. Did you know him, Father?”
“No, though his story and company are known well enough. He funded the first spaceline, the station at L4, many things. On what basis did the Church refuse your grandfather burial?”
“Father McCormick said he was an atheist. He never went to mass, but Mum and I did, for him. He was—busy—making possible what the Church has today. The governments were going to shut down the Moonbase, just like they did the old space station, because they thought spending money on space wasn’t worth it. Grandpa Mike even offered to pay for building the church beneath Malapert Mountain. Father McCormick said he was trying to buy his way into Heaven.”
Agyeman’s voice was almost a whisper now. “And then what happened?”
“After the funeral, Mum tried again to get Father to change his mind. I went with her. She was angry, like I was. F-Father M-M—he said that Mum needed to reread Ecclesiastes. That space travel was nothing but vanity. Mum said he was working to save us, that if life expanded beyond the Earth, we wouldn’t get wiped out like the dinosaurs. Father McCormick said that Grandpa Mike was a heretic, that he was building in space for his own glory, not for God’s. He said that only Jesus could save, and that whatever Grandpa did was futile in comparison! He told us that Grandpa’s work—that his life—meant nothing!”
Agyeman allowed Loretta to compose herself and wipe away the tears that had flowed unhindered down her face. She almost rose from the kneeler.
“Would you please stay, Ms. McNamara? I would like to talk about your grandfather.” Loretta remained in place, uncomfortable. “I want you to understand the Church’s position on this. I cannot speak to Father McCormick’s state of mind or his methods when he spoke to you and your mother. I am sorry you were hurt so, and that you were estranged from the Church. But I must be clear: if your grandfather actually stated that his mission was to save humanity, then such monstrous conceit could not go unrebuked. You must see that, yes?” When Loretta did not reply, Agyeman sighed. “Alas, you seem to have inherited his heresy. Your willingness to steal from the Church, even if it is under the guise of providing energy to the whole world, is further proof that you are continuing his sin of vanity. You must have known what you were doing.”
Loretta nodded. “Yes.”
“Your sins are great…” Loretta felt the blood-rush of anger return. It was only the truth of Agyeman’s words that kept her from punching the grille. “…but penance can be found if you truly have a contrite heart. What do you believe would be a suitable act of contrition for sins such as yours?”
Loretta cast about for ideas, anything. She shoved her hand into her jacket pocket, unconsciously curling her agitated fingers around the rosary Anthony had given her, a habit that always helped her collect her thoughts when she was in school. She was thinking as both a Christian and a businesswoman now, and the integrated whole was looking for a solution that was both satisfactory and right. The combination had not occurred to her in a long time. Then: inspiration. “I—”
“Yes?”
“I would be willing to renounce my company’s claim to the helium-3 at Korolev.”
“Yes?”
“I would help the Church fend off further intrusions on its property.”
“Yes?”
“I would give 49 percent of the proceeds from my new venture to the Church for whatever purpose it sees fit.”
“What new venture is that, daughter?”
“I would start my own company, to become a partner with the Church on the new asteroid miner you are building. I know mining. Your people know spacecraft, but their mining hardware design needs work. I know how to accomplish work in low and zero gravity.”
“And how would you locate these asteroids?”
“Using the infrared telescopes you’ve been building here to watch for world-killers. The Church cares about life. So do I. I will use what gifts I have to protect life. And the Church.”
“God’s Church is not without compassion,” Agyeman said. “Would you accept this penance you have proposed, and return to the bosom of the Church?”
She felt the fist unclench from her heart as she said, “Yes, Father.”
“While the secrecy of the confessional is sacred, you will understand if the Hagia Sophia expects to see your proposal in writing, in the form of a legal contract.”
“Yes, Father.”
Loretta heard Agyeman pause and sigh. Then he caught himself, and must have leaned closer, for his voice seemed louder from his side of the screen. "And do you expect the Church to allow your grandfather to be buried on holy ground in exchange for this penance?"
Surprised, Loretta said, "Oh, no, Father! That was not my intention." She paused, then put a smile into her voice and said, "Of course if you or the Church felt so moved, Mum and I wouldn't object..."
"We shall see, daughter. We shall see. There will be other things you must do, for the good of your soul. Prayers must be said, offerings made.”
“I have twenty years of Hail Mary’s to catch up on.”
“Just so. You may begin at once. Go in peace, your sins are forgiven. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”

English Tutoring Training at Learn to Read

In response to some friends--space advocates and non--I decided to find a new hobby. I also decided that a frivolous, non-productive hobby wasn't quite my thing. I've already got one of those, and it's called beer. No, I thought I'd try to do something worthwhile, something, dare I say it, important with myself. Teaching was an idea, but I don't have the time, money, or inclination to pursue a teaching certificate. As I've noted elsewhere on this blog, I'm going to Europe next year. So when my pastor's wife suggested attending a class at Learn to Read, where I could learn how to tutor ESL students, I thought: "Great! I can pay the English major gift forward and get some foreign language back!" Of course this would depend greatly on assuming there will be someone from France, Germany, or Italy in the Huntsville area looking for a tutor.

I can tell you now: the answer to that wish is no; my options right now are undereducated Americans and non-English-speaking Mexicans or Guatemalans. Not that that's completely bad: I have some Spanish in my background, and theoretically I should be able to communicate with an American. However...last night after class, I began having doubts about my ability to do the work. I've been reading since before I could walk. It's as natural to me--and as necessary--as breathing. Will I be able to relate to someone who hasn't read much, someone for whom it doesn't come naturally, or (God forbid) someone who actually doesn't enjoy reading as I do? Perhaps it's to my benefit, then, that I've got to teach myself some German, French, and Italian for my trip next year. I'll have at least an idea of what my student(s) are going through.

I'm not sure pairing me with an American is a good idea, though that would be one hell of a lesson in humility and patience, wouldn't it? Heck, I lack patience with the literate! I'll give the matter some thought until Learn to Read (LTR) finds a suitable student who can match my availability.

So, the training...my notes are below.

• One of the first things the nice ladies at LTR informed of--and kept reminding us of throughout the day--was that the class used to be 15 hours and stretch over three days. Now they do it in 9 hours and one day. The reason for this shift was that people would sometimes leave after the first day. I can appreciate their candor, but the learner in me was wondering, "What am I missing?"
• Anyhow, they explained that they dealt with a variety of issues and learning levels, from Americans who dropped out of school early and never got past X grade in the basics to Mexican immigrants who need to start fresh to Asian immigrants who received English training but need help translating "Southern."
• Most of the students are adults, with adult learning styles, rather than children who can tolerate a lot of drill-and-kill.
• The word "test" is avoided, since that's often one of the things people didn't like about school. Instead they call them "evaluations" or "checkups." I'm partial to what one of my junior high school students called them: "learning experiences."
• This process requires a great deal of patience and positive reinforcement--the students need to be told and encouraged that they CAN learn to read.
• Here are some scary stats: 1 in 20 adults in the U.S. are not literate in English (11 million people). High-literate adults' salaries average $50,700, $28,000 more than non-literate adults. 95 million adults have intermediate skills.
• My classmates included my pastor's wife, who's been a teacher; J, a mayor of a local municipality here in AL, and L, an occupational therapist.
• The LTR uses primarily the Laubach Literacy method, which is phonics-based. They also use the Challenger series for students who have basic English skills--say, up to 2nd to 4th grade--but needs work on building grammar, vocabulary, and reading comprehension.
• The only book we took home was Teach Adults: A Literary Resource Book. However, we spent a great deal of time reviewing the Laubach and Challenger materials--teaching manuals, student books, workbooks, and other activity books--just to get a feel for what was in them and how they taught.
• Asking the students a lot of questions can be offensive--listen.
• Depending on the age of the student, you might not be able to change their handwriting habits (e.g., writing in ALL CAPS).
• The standard method, for individuals or groups, is to start with an image (e.g. a cup). We tell them, "This is a cup. Say 'cup.'" [Student/class repeats.] Point to the word cup. "Cup begins with the sound 'k'. Say 'k.'" [Student/class repeats.] "Repeat." [Student/class repeats.] "Repeat." [Student/class repeats.] "The 'k' sound comes for the letter 'c.' Say 'c.'" [Student/class repeats.] "Good!" The tutor then moves down to the next picture on the page. At the end of the line, the student is asked to repeat the item they just read plus the previous item until they get it right. Drill and kill, baby.
• Learning to read goes through four phases: recognize (letters/words), understand, react, and apply.
• The books start with the consonants, the move on to short vowels, long vowels, and lower and upper case. Along the way, quirky spelling exceptions, basic punctuation, and grammar are learned as well.
• Some words qualify as "sight words," meaning you just have to learn their appearance and sound, because the two don't necessarily match (e.g. say, says, said). Students also learn phonics, words patterns, context, and word parts.
• Don't throw everything at the student at once, but start from the basics they know (once they've been assessed), and work up at their own pace from there.
• The English alphabet has 26 letters and 43 sounds.
• Word sounds include: vowels (a,e, etc.) and consonants (b,c, etc.), voiced (g, v, etc.) and unvoiced (p,t, etc.), continuants (m, o, etc.) and stops (d, t, etc.), and nasals (m, n, ng).
• Characteristics of adult learners include: they are used to making their own decisions, are busy people, often have to deal with emergencies and unexpected situations, have learned a lot from experience, and build on what they already know.
• Communication learning includes listening, reading (incl. text, symbols, body language, and tone), speaking, and writing.
• Learning styles include visual (learn by seeing), auditory (learn by hearing), and kinesthetic (learn by doing). (I happen to be a visual and occasionally kinesthetic learner. I have been called on this by one manager because I don't always listen as well as I should and write down a lot of instructions in my journal, which I keep on hand nearly constantly.)
• We saw a video of a single, illiterate mom, hearing her thoughts as she faked her way through her day, sometimes by getting help, but often changing her circumstances so she didn't have to do any reading or writing. Scary, but you can get an idea of how they do it.
• Focus on the relationship with the student: what is his goal? What do they want/need to do with their reading/writing? How can I help? How can I make the experience more interesting, comfortable, and enjoyable?
• Don't assume your needs or behaviors are theirs (Non-Tribal Thinking Training 101).
• Don't interrupt!
• Some things I hadn't considered in a long time: a long 'a' usually appears at the end of the first syllable. Syllables are determined by the number of vowel sounds.
• Controlled writing includes things like filling out forms, writing letters, and signing checks.
• Reading with the student can include the following methods: reading to the student, duet reading (reading at the same time), echo reading (student reads after teacher, copying pronunciation), alternate reading (each person reads a bit back and forth--most often used in groups or when reading plays).
• N, my pastor's wife, asked if the LTR taught "The Language Experience" approach, where you connect reading and writing directly to the reader's experience. LTR does not use this method.
• LTR is a non-profit and has a lot of old or outdated equipment and books.
• We finished up the session by discussing other texts the LTR had available and then specific logistics.

Anyhow, I have a book to read and will have to wait awhile before I get a student. They have three students waiting: three foreign nationals (Spanish-speaking), who are available on days when I've usually got NSS-related activities; and three American girls who are all 17 or 18. That might be doable, but I'm not sure how comfortable the girls would be with a 38-year-old single white guy. We'll see. Maybe a European grown-up will show up.

Do I feel ready? Hell, no! Again, this will require a lot of patience and humility. I've got a lot of work ahead of me.

Petition Signing: Re-Opening the Office of Technology Assessment

This one was thrown over the transom by Darlene, the Science Cheerleader: it's a petition to ask Congress to reinstate the Office of Technology Assessment, a citizens' advisory group which, unlike the folks who run the National Science Foundation, are not necessarily scientists or experts in a particular scientific field. What the OTA did, from 1972 to 1995, is throw a group of concerned citizens into a room, have them discuss particular issues of science or technology policy, and then write up reports based on their discussion--particularly focusing on points of commonality.

Some reports that might be of interest to readers of this blog (or more to the point, the writer of this blog) include:

• Affordable Spacecraft: Design and Launch Alternatives (1990)
• American Military Power: Future Needs, Future Choices (October 1991)
• Analysis of Laws Governing Access Across Federal Lands: Options for Access in Alaska (February 1979)
• Analysis of the Feasibility of Separating Exploration From Production of Oil and Gas on the Outer Continental Shelf (May 1975)
• Anti-Satellite Weapons, Countermeasures, and Arms Control (September 1985)
• Application of Solar Technology to Today's Energy Needs-Vol. I (June 1978)
• Application of Solar Technology to Today's Energy Needs-Vol. II (September 1978)
• Arms Control in Space (May 1984)
• An Assessment of Oil Shale Technologies (June 1980)
• Ballistic Missile Defense Technologies (September 1985)
• Big Dumb Boosters: A Low-Cost Space Transportation Option? (February 1989)
• Civilian Satellite Remote Sensing: A Strategic Approach (September 1994)
• Civilian Space Policy and Applications (June 1982)
• Civilian Space Stations and the U.S. Future in Space (November 1984)
• Commercial Newsgathering From Space (May 1987)
• Directed Energy Missile Defense in Space (April 1984)
• Educating Scientists and Engineers: Grade School to Grad School (June 1988)
• Education and Technology: Future Visions (September 1995)
• The Effects of Nuclear War (May 1979)
• Electronic Surveillance and Civil Liberties (October 1985)
• Electronic Surveillance in a Digital Age (July 1995)
• Elementary and Secondary Education for Science and Engineering (December 1988)
• Engineering Implications of Chronic Materials Scarcity (April 1977)
• Enhanced Oil Recovery Potential in the United States (January 1978)
• Exploring the Moon and Mars: Choices for the Nation (July 1991)
• Federal Research and Technology for Aviation (September 1994)
• The Fusion Energy Program: The Role of TPX and Alternate Concepts (February 1995)
• The Future of Remote Sensing From Space: Civilian Satellite Systems and Applications (July 1993)
• Holding the Edge: Maintaining the Defense Technology Base (April 1989)
• Holding the Edge: Maintaining the Defense Technology Base-Vol. II, Appendices (January 1990)
• Innovation and Commercialization of Emerging Technologies (September 1995)
• Launch Options for the Future: A Buyer's Guide (July 1988)
• The Lower Tiers of the Space Transportation Industrial Base (August 1995)
• Multinationals and the National Interest: Playing by Different Rules (September 1993)
• MX Missile Basing (September 1981)
• NASA's Office of Space Science and Applications: Process, Priorities and Goals (January 1992)
• The National Space Transportation Policy: Issues for Congress (May 1995)
• Oil Production in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge: The Technology and the Alaskan Oil Context (February 1989) (Note how long THIS one has been an issue...)
• Orbiting Debris: A Space Environmental Problem (October 1990)
• Proliferation and the Former Soviet Union (September 1994)
• Proliferation of Weapons of Mass Destruction: Assessing the Risks (August 1993)
• Remote Sensing and the Private Sector: Issues for Discussion (March 1984)
• Remotely Sensed Data From Space: Distribution, Pricing, and Applications (July 1992)
• Remotely Sensed Data: Technology, Management and Markets (September 1994)
• Research Funding as an Investment: Can We Measure the Returns? (April 1986) (Considering how much on-duty time I've spent researching this precise question, I'd bloody well better read this one!)
• Round Trip to Orbit: Human Spaceflight Alternatives (August 1989)
• SALYUT: Soviet Steps Toward Permanent Human Presence in Space (December 1983)
• SDI: Technology, Survivability, and Software (May 1988)
• Solar Power Satellites (August 1981)
• Space Science Research in the United States (September 1982)
• Space Stations and the Law: Selected Legal Issues (August 1986)
• Starpower: The U.S. and the International Quest for Fusion Energy (October 1987)
• Technologies Underlying Weapons of Mass Destruction (December 1993)
• Technology Against Terrorism: Structuring Security (January 1992)
• Technology Against Terrorism: The Federal Effort (July 1991)
• Technology Transfer to China (July 1987)
• Technology Transfer to the Middle East (September 1984)
• U.S. Oil Production: The Effect of Low Oil Prices (July 1987) (This ought to be a hoot.)
• U.S.-Russian Cooperation in Space (April 1995)
• U.S.-Soviet Cooperation in Space (July 1985)
• U.S. Vulnerability to an Oil Import Curtailment (September 1984) (This one ought NOT to be a hoot--we're close to that now.)
• Verification Technologies: Managing Research and Development for Cooperative Arms Control Monitoring Measures (May 1991)
• Verification Technologies: Measures for Monitoring Compliance With the START Treaty (December 1990)
• Virtual Reality and Technologies for Combat Simulation (September 1994)
• Wireless Technologies and the National Information Infrastructure (September 1995)
• World Petroleum Availability 1980-2000 (November 1980)

In any case, there is PLENTY of food for thought here, and as the reader can see, OTA addressees a number of hot issues that affect the voting public. I'd be curious to know more about how OTA actually functioned. The Wikipedia article states that its board members were 12 members of Congress, 6 from each parth. The article also provided this little tidbit, which offers some insight into why it was closed down by Newt Gingrich's 104th Congress:

Criticism of the agency was fueled by Fat City, a 1980 book by Donald Lambro that was regarded favorably by the Reagan administration; it called OTA an "unnecessary agency" that duplicated government work done elsewhere. OTA was abolished in "Contract with America" period of Newt Gingrich's Republican ascendancy in Congress.

At the time that 104th Congress withdrew funding for OTA, it had a full-time staff of 143 people and an annual budget of $21.9 million.

Mind you, there could be unforeseen consequences to this office, depending on its scope of authority. The Congressional Research Service report linked to in the Wikipedia article is worth reading.

Some questions for Darlene:

The CRS report cites criticism of the OTA's research as suffering from "liberal bias," though I'm forced to wonder how this was allowed/possible if both parties had equal membership.

I am also curious about why the same research could not be done by the Congressional Research Service itself--or another office like NSF or GAO.

The OTA Board consists of members of Congress--most of them rich lawyers and not experts in science or technology; also, the reports being generated came from field research and interviews with experts in the field. Where, exactly, would the citizens' voices come in?

The Citizens' Advisory Council for Space, which I mentioned earlier, consisted of both military and civilian types; scientists and engineers; and, for thought consolidation and report writing, science fiction writers (Heinlein, Clarke, Pournelle, and Niven, to name four--the story can be found in "How to Save Civilization (and Make a Little Money)" in Larry Niven's N-Space anthology). A lot of these folks were not policy makers, to be certain, but they were all educated in the fields at hand. Indeed, the SF writers could probably qualify as experts in their field. If a similar structure were proposed for a revived OTA, then presumably it would resemble the CACS. The contributors would be citizens, true, but citizens of a particular education level, income level, or class. Who in a revived OTA would be responsible for translating any reports or results to an increasingly undereducated public?

Understand: I have no particular interest in having the uninformed offer opinions on matters they know nothing about--I'm just curious what means would be available to make the OTA's results accessible to the broader, interested public. One of the points raised by Charles Murray's The Bell Curve is that we run the risk of having our high-tech society ruled increasingly by people who understand said technology. Meanwhile, the portion of the population that remains ignorant of such things increasingly finds itself subject to decisions they don't understand, and that might, in fact, be contrary to their interests. This is one of the dangers of technocracy--rule by the experts. All I'm saying is that any future OTA should be an advisory, not a governing body, and that any reports the Office releases should be released in some sort of plain-language and yes, if possible, "dumbed down" version accessible to high-school-educated lay people. Citizens should know what their lawmakers--and the experts who advise them--are up to, yes?

That's all for now. I'll be signing the petition, but with my reservations noted above.

Space and Culture

I wrote the following as part of an exercise during my all-day English tutoring class today. I'll discuss the class in another post. I'd like to focus on this topic here to keep my food groups separate.

***

The culture of a spacefaring society will be as important to its members as the technologies that keep people alive. Machines sustain the body, but culture will sustain the soul. The simple fact of living in space will mean a whole new realm of experiences that people will want to communicate. This will take the forms we already know well--literature, art, music, religion, etc. However, the sheer uniqueness of an alien world or zero gravity might result in completely new forms of artistic and cultural expression.

What will dance look like in zero gravity? How will sculpture be different in the low gravity of the Moon? What stories might be told or hymns written in the dark places between worlds? To some extent, we will carry our old traditions with us, but as we explore and experience new places, those traditions will inevitably change, as they have changed since the dawn of history.

***

That's all I had time for in class, but I think this would make an interesting article for Ad Astra. Space advocates talk a great deal about the technologies needed to travel through and survive in space, but somewhat less attention is paid to the lifestyles of the people living there. That's why I've been pushing for artists contributing to the NSS Space Settlement Calendar to show people or more domestic activities (sports & recreation, home & family, romance, work). Most people cannot picture themselves piloting a spacecraft or performing a scientific experiment, but they could imagine building a snowman on Mars, praying in a cathedral beneath the Peaks of Eternal Light on the Moon, or skiing on the slopes of Europa.

So:

• What will a spaceborne culture look like?
• What will their traditions/rituals/laws/taboos be?
• What will their art look like?
• How will they dance?
• What will their music sound like?
• Will their paintings be realistic--to capture the real wonders around them, will they go even further abstract than art today, or will artists of the future create more "back to Earth"-themed works?
• Will space-based blogging become an art form unto itself?
• How will people entertain themselves on other worlds?

Your thoughts are welcome.

Frankfurter Taste Testing--Try This At Home, I'm Not a Professional!

I was surfing randomly around the internet yesterday when I ran across this story in MSN.com about Kraft's Oscar Meyer and Sara Lee's Ball Park Franks getting into some sort of "wiener war" for America's outdoor grilling taste buds. One of my cousins works for Kraft, so I thought I'd help her out by doing some random, non-scientific field testing of these two products so that I might reach a more informed decision the next time I have the urge to load up on nitrates. Below are the "conditions" of said field/taste test. No promises on its scientific accuracy or relevance.

So what I did was head for the lunch meat section of Publix and bought a pack of each. I tried to find comparable products, but had to deal with what was on the shelf. Here's what I ended up with:

Oscar Meyer 10-count Premium Beef Franks, 16 oz. Prior to cooking, the Oscar Meyer dogs looked better in the package. They were obviously smaller--10 dogs to the pack instead of 8 for Ball Park--but they also had a reddish brick color, more akin to Smokies than hot dogs. Unfortunately, I neglected to do a pre-grilling taste test. Cold hot dogs were a staple of my childhood, and still make an appearance in my adult diet when I'm too lazy to microwave my grilling leftovers. It might have been interesting to do a before-and-after taste test.

Ball Park 8-count Bun Size Franks, 16 oz. These dogs were obviously bigger and slightly longer in the package. Their color was that distressing grey-brown that causes adults to grill or otherwise hot dogs rather than eat them in their natural state.

Cooking Conditions: The hot dogs were grilled on a non-Weber knockoff grill over approximately 50 Match Light Instant Charcoals after ~10 minutes of prefiring. The grill was on an unenclosed patio, outside temperatures in the mid-80s, moderate humidity.

Grilling: The Oscar Meyer hot dogs remained straight throughout grilling. They took slightly longer to brown but reached a nice, crispy texture (cook's preferred level of done-ness) once they got going. The dogs did expand to approximately the same length as the Ball Park dogs after several minutes on the grill. The Ball Park dogs browned more quickly, began to curl, making them slightly unmanageable when turning, but did not grow appreciably during the grilling process. Eventually, as I was beginning to remove them from the grill, both sets of hot dogs began to assume the same color, length, and consistency, with the Ball Park dogs remaining slightly curved. If not for this slight difference, my absentmindedness might have made telling the two apart more difficult.

Tasting: As I had only myself on hand for the experiment, you'll just have to go along with me on this. Being boring and cheap, the dogs were both put on simple Publix white-bread hot dog rolls (currently selling at 2/$1.99 in Huntsville) with Heinz Ketchup and Hebrew National Deli Mustard. Your taste/mileage may vary. The Oscar Meyer, despite its healthier appearance in the package, had a slightly tougher skin (thus the longer browning time) and an unremarkable flavor. The Ball Park Franks, despite their thinner skin and more rapid browning, still retained a juicier, somehow fresher or more distinctive flavor.

Results: While it won't make my Kraft cousin happy, I'd have to go with the Ball Park Franks for future frankfurter festivals. The flavor and purpose-built bun length more than outweighed their inconvenient grilling/turning characteristics. Da Winna: Ball Park Franks!

May your experiments be just as rewarding.

Science Fiction as a Way to Teach Technical Writing

Huzzah! Apparently this blogging thing can be quite a racket if you know what you're doing. I just won a free t-shirt. Darlene, The Science Cheerleader, sent me the following comment:

Hey Bart!Thanks for the terrific posts. Would you kindly summarize one or two "science facts" folks can learn from a great science fiction book? You are, officially, the winner of the Science Cheerleader T-Shirt.

She was responding to my posting below, which suggested that science fiction was an excellent introduction and teaching mechanism for aspiring English majors to find a career in technical writing.

Once upon a time, I created (but didn’t give) a presentation entitled “Everything I Needed to Know About Technical Writing I Learned from Reading Science Fiction.” My basic argument is that:

The SF writer:

• Describes an unfamiliar world
• Creates challenges related to or brought about by real or imagined aspects of science
• Provides solutions to those challenges based on knowledge learned in the environment

The technical communicator:

• Seeks to help the user understand an unfamiliar technology and solve certain problems based on the communicator’s description of that technology

I used typical SF milieus--”Enormous Big Thing” stories, time travel stories, and SF detective stories–as means of teaching technical communicators mental approaches for dealing with completely new topics or technologies. I summed up with:

You might not ever encounter “enormous big things,” time travel, or crimes in space, BUT…

--You can face large mysteries

--You can face documents or processes that need to be placed in chronological order…or some other order that makes sense to the user at the time

--You may experience “crimes” related to human-technology interactions. So…

Read some science fiction today!

I suppose SF has taught me the most about the consequences and the potential impacts of natural phenomena and technology. Consider the following examples.

From Robert A. Heinlein's "Space Jockey":

The Commerce Commission has set the charges for the present three-stage lift from here to the Moon at thirty dollars a pound. Would direct service be cheaper?--a ship designed to blast off from Earth, make an airless landing on the Moon, return and make an atmosphere landing, would be so cluttered up with heavy special equipment used only once in the trip that it could not show a profit at a thousand dollars a pound! Imagine combining a ferry boat, a subway train, and an express elevator--

***
"Mass ratio...under power, the ship lost the weight of fuel burned. The thrust remained constant; the mass it pushed shrank. Getting back to proper position, course, and speed became a complicated problem in the calculus of ballistics."

***

Or these, from Arthur C. Clarke's The Fountains of Paradise:

He had seen that two-century-old film at least fifty times, and there were sections that we had examined frame by frame, until he knew every detail by heart. It was, after all, the most expensive movie footage ever shot, at least in peacetime. It had cost the State of Washington several million dollars a minute...

Vast, slow undulations, meters in amplitude, were sweeping along the entire width of the span, so that the roadway suspended between the piers twisted back and forth like an angry snake. The wind blowing down the canyon was sounding a note far too low for any human ears to detect, as it hit the natural frequency of the beautiful, doomed structure...

There stood the slim (too slim!) and graceful bridge, spanning the canyon. It bore no traffic, but a single car had been abandoned midway by its driver....

Suddenly, the supporting cables snapped, flailing upward like murderous steel whips. Twisting and turning, the roadway pitched into the river, fragments of the structure flying in all directions...In reality, it had lasted perhaps five seconds. At the end of that time, the Tacoma Narrows Bridge had earned an inexpungable place in the history of engineering.

***

Once again he was back at the Tacoma Narrows Birdge, but this time in a world of fantasy. There was a ship that had to sail beneath it, on a perfectly regular schedule. Unfortunately, the mast was a meter too tall...

No problem. Just before it was due to arrive, a few heavy trucks would be sent racing across the bridge at intervals carefully calculated to match its resonant frequency. A gentle wave would sweep along the roadway from pier to pier, the crest timed to coincide with the arrival of the ship. And so the masthead would glide beneath, with whole centimeters to spare...

And from Frank Herbert's Dune:

[W]e must start on standy-by water facilities at once. No man is going to hold a club over my head!

"It's a rule of ecology," Kynes said, "that the young Master appears to understand quite well. The struggle between life elements is the struggle for the free energy of the system."

"Each bush, each weed you see out there in the erg," she said, "how do you suppose it lives when we leave it? Each is planted most tenderly in its own little pit. The pits are filled with smooth ovals of chromoplastic. Light turns them white...But when Old Father Sun departs, the chromoplastic reverts to transparency in the dark. It cools with extreme rapidity. The surface condenses moisture out of the air. That moisture trickles down to keep our plants alive."

And lastly, from Larry Niven's Ringworld:

He took the holo print and looked into it.

At first it made no sense at all, but he kept looking, waiting for it to resolve. There was a small, intensely white disk that might have been a sun, G0 or K9 or K8, with a shallow chord sliced off along a straight black edge. But the blazing object could not have been a sun. Partially behind it, against a space-black background, was a strip of sky blue. The blue strip was perfectly straight, sharp-edged, solid, and artificial, and wider than the lighted disc.

"Looks like a star with a hoop around it," said Louis. "What is it?"

***

Sometime during these past hours, Louis had found a way to visualize the scale of the Ringworld.

It involved a Mercator projection of the planet Earth--a common, rectangular, classroom wall map--but with the equator drawn to one-to-one scale...But one could draw forty such maps, edge to edge, across the width of the Ringworld.

***

In suchwise, gifted science fiction writers convey a "sense of wonder," either about the nature of the universe, alien artifacts, or humanity's own future creations. Through simple but elegant gifts of prose, writers like Heinlein, Clarke, and Niven entertain, but also teach.

Book Review: Creating Character Emotions
This was one of two books I consulted while trying to fix a science fiction short story. The two biggest gripes my writer/editor friend had were with my plot and characterization (in other words, I had a lot of work to do). I actually consulted Creating Character Emotions by Ann Hood first. A common failing of mine is to focus so much on The Big Ideas of a story that I lose track of the fact that these ideas need to be expressed by realistic, if imaginary people. Another problem I had was providing a convincing explanation for my lead character's emotions.
I'm not quite certain if this book helped me a great deal. What happened about one-third of my way into reading it--it's only about 160 pages long--is that I saw enough of what the author was trying to convey to "get it," do some free associating on my own story, and provide some motivation for my protagonist. I then moved over to Plot & Structure to fix my plot holes. The combination of these two books undoubtedly raised a C effort up to a B. Other things will need to be done before I consider the story an A, or at least an A-.
Each chapter of this book address a different emotion (anger, love (parent-child and romantic), revenge, tenderness, etc.). The chapter begins by offering a brief introduction into how the author feels about or treats the emotion; Hood then offers some bad or clichéd ways to depict an emotion in prose, some good examples, and then some exercises for the writer to try independently. I might go back to those exercises eventually, though right now I'm interested in finding a few other books along this line as well, including books on dialogue, description and setting, and of course a book or two on some of the rudiments of science fiction writing, which has its own special challenges.
I guess I'm more of a plot and structure guy, because I got a lot more out of that book than this one. But then, as I explained to a manager a few years ago, "I don't understand people," so I don't necessarily "write them well." One thing Hood did make clear in Creating Character Emotions is that you need to be quite honest and clear about your own feelings to write about others' well. I guess that's a telling thing right there. If you keep your emotions bottled up or starved for the most part, then writing about emotionally vibrant characters isn't necessarily going to be your thing. (There's a damn good reason why I don't write romance novels, ya know.)
Anyhow, if you've got the time, this book is worth a look, though it's more experimental than Plot & Structure. You've really got to play around with the language and your own experiences to create the sorts of original emotional experiences that resonate with character-driven readers.

Book Review: Plot & Structure

I was in the middle of completing a story for a science fiction contest, only to discover this morning that the deadline for submissions was last week (6/15), not this week (6/25). D@mmit. Anyhow, the story was improved greatly by James Scott Bell's Plot & Structure, which helps aspiring writers better organize their stories. It really is useful for "commercial" as opposed to "literary" fiction, as Bell's tips often don't apply to the stream-of-consciousness-who-cares-if-there's-a-story-as-long-as-the-language-is-pretty school of writing. You've got to want to write a specific story in a specific genre and accomplish specific things in a way that grabs and holds the reader. This is the essence of "commercial" fiction, and Bell's book got added to my library at a propitious moment. Of course it isn't Bell's fault that I finished the damned story late. That's a whole 'nother professionalism issue.

One of Bell's most useful bits of advice is "LOCK" - Lead, Objective, Confrontation, Knockout - which provides the basic structure of a plot: introduce your lead character, identify their objective, set them on a collision course with whatever's interfering with their objective through a series of setbacks, and then deliver the knockout punch that wins the day. And perhaps the most useful piece of advice for a conflict-averse writer like me was: Don't let your characters off easy. Meaning? Don't rely on the kindness of others or some Deus ex machina to bail out your character's central conflict.

Mind you, I was getting the same advice from a professional writing friend, but I'm a book-learning kind of guy, so having a more general text on the subject helped supplement her tactical advice on my particular story. Anyhow, if you're serious about turning out writing that will keep the reader reading, I highly recommend this book.

Now I just need to find another non-paying outlet for that stupid story. GAAAAHHHHH!!

Woo hoo! The Adventure Begins

I haven't discussed my Europe trip in awhile because there wasn't much to report. However, today, RickSteves.com issued their itineraries for 2009. So here it is:

Best of Europe in 21 Days

Your day-by-day itinerary:
Day 1: Welcome to the Netherlands
Your room should be ready by 3 p.m. at the hotel in Haarlem (30 minutes by train, bus or taxi from the Amsterdam airport). We'll meet at the hotel around 4 p.m. for an orientation meeting and a chance to get acquainted, followed by a walking tour and dinner together. Sleep in Haarlem (2 nights). No bus. Walking: light.
Day 2: Progressive, Artistic Amsterdam
We'll take the train into Amsterdam this morning, and begin with a walking tour of Amsterdam's historic core, including Anne Frank's House. This afternoon we'll see masterpieces from the remarkable Rijksmuseum. You'll have free time late this afternoon to see the Van Gogh Museum or stroll along the canals. Later we'll return to Haarlem for a free evening. Train: 1 hr. Walking: strenuous.
Day 3: Dutch Treats and Rhine Views
We'll work our way down to Germany's castle-studded Rhineland. Along the way, we'll stop in Arnhem to visit the Netherlands' first and largest open-air museum. We'll enjoy dinner together at our hotel tonight. Sleep in Bacharach on the Rhine (2 nights). Bus: 7 hrs. Walking: light.
Day 4: Rhine Castles and a River Cruise
This morning we'll take a walking tour of Bacharach with a local guide. Then we'll head to St. Goar and hike up to the mighty Rheinfels castle, overlooking the Rhine. We'll tour the castle, cruise the Rhine, and have a free evening to do some exploring on your own. Bus: ½ hr. Walking: strenuous.
Day 5: Medieval Rothenburg
After an early start, we'll arrive in Rothenburg, Germany's cutest medieval town, just before lunchtime. The afternoon is yours to see Riemenschneider's altarpiece (the best woodcarving in Germany), walk the medieval wall, tour the Crime and Punishment Museum, or hunt down the best apple strudel in town. Sleep in Rothenburg (1 night). Bus: 4 hrs. Walking: strenuous.
Day 6: Dachau and Austria's Tirol
This morning we'll visit the Dachau concentration camp near Munich. Later, depending on the day of the week, we'll have a lunch break in Munich or Andechs. We'll then drive south into Austria, toward the Alps and Reutte, our rural and tranquil Tirolean home base. Eat dinner and sleep in or near Reutte (2 nights). Bus: 6 hrs. Walking: light to moderate.
Day 7: Neuschwanstein Castle and the Luge
It's a short drive and a half-hour walk to "Mad King" Ludwig's Neuschwanstein Castle. After lunch, we'll look for a summer luge to barrel down (weather and season permitting), and find free time to stroll in the woods or relax at our peaceful hotel before dinner. Bus: 1 hr. Walking: strenuous.
Day 8: Italy's Incomparable Venice
We'll drive all day to Venice, where we'll leave the bus and board a boat to our hotel in the historic heart of this seductive city. Tonight we'll take an orientation walk to magical, moonlit St. Mark's Square. Sleep in Venice (2 nights). Bus: 8 hrs. Walking: moderate.
Day 9: The Art of Wandering in Venice
After a morning walking tour through the historic heart of Venice, you'll be free to tour St. Mark's Basilica, the Doge's Palace, the Accademia art gallery — or shop, explore the alleys, cruise the canals, and "crawl" the pubs. No bus (too much water). Walking: moderate.
Day 10: Florence and Michelangelo's David
After checking into our hotel, a gelato-fueled orientation walk will wind us through the historic core of Florence. This evening we'll get acquainted with Michelangelo's David at Florence's Accademia. Sleep in Florence (2 nights). Bus: 3 hrs. Walking: moderate.
Day 11: Wonders of Renaissance Florence
We'll begin our day with a tour of the masterpiece-packed Uffizi Gallery. Then you'll be on your own for the rest of the day to discover the wealth of historic churches, museums, street markets and cafés. No bus. Walking: moderate.
Day 12: A Walk Through Caesar's Rome
This morning we'll drive straight to the heart of Rome, where we'll spend the afternoon uncovering Ancient Rome (visiting the Colosseum, Forum and Pantheon) with a local guide. Tonight let's celebrate la dolce vita, with a fountain-splashing, after-dinner stroll through the heart of the city. Sleep in Rome (2 nights). Bus: 4 hrs. Walking: strenuous.
Day 13: Renaissance Rome
Today we'll focus on Renaissance (Catholic) Rome, spending our morning touring the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel, and our early afternoon in St. Peter's amazing cathedral. You'll have the rest of the day free to take a siesta or explore more of the Eternal City. No bus. Walking: strenuous.
Day 14: To Italy's Cinque Terre
We'll drive all day to reach the sun-drenched beaches of Italy's hidden Cinque Terre: five perfectly preserved fishing villages, surrounded by vineyards and the sea. On the way, we'll take time to visit one of Italy's enchanting hill towns. At the coast, we'll leave the bus and take a 10-minute train ride into the Cinque Terre, where we'll sleep (2 nights). Bus: 7 hrs. Walking: moderate.
Day 15: Free Day in the Cinque Terre
Ahh, time for a 'vacation from your vacation.' You couldn't see a museum here even if you wanted to! This is simply traditional Italy, with nothing to do but hike through the hillside vineyards that connect the five villages, take in the breathtaking scenery, hang out on the beaches, swim, and lounge around the town like a local. No bus. Walking: light to strenuous (your choice).
Day 16: To the Heart of the Swiss Alps
Today we'll catch an early train back to our bus, then head into the heart of the Swiss Alps. After a breathtaking drive, we'll arrive at our hotel located in the magnificent Lauterbrunnen Valley. Sleep in a creaky old chalet in the Lauterbrunnen Valley (2 nights). Bus: 9 hrs. Walking: light.
Day 17: Free Day to Hike in the Alps
The day is all yours. If the weather is good, you may want to ride a gondola up to the Schilthorn at 10,000 feet, loiter in the thin air, and hike part way down. Or just lie low and play Heidi. For more Alpine thrills, ride trains and lifts to hikes at the foot of the majestic Eiger and Jungfrau peaks. Bad weather options include Trümmelbach Falls, valley hikes, or just relaxing in the mountain air. No bus. Walking: light to strenuous (your choice).
Day 18: A Hearty Taste of Burgundy
Today we'll say "Auf Wiedersehen" to the Alps and "Bonjour" to la belle France. We'll drive into profoundly French Burgundy for a look at small-town France. After an orientation to town and some free time, we'll gather for a sampling of this region's most famous product, Burgundian wine. Sleep in or near Beaune (1 night). Bus: 5 hrs. Walking: light.
Day 19: Historic and Neighborhood Paris
After breakfast, we'll drive into Paris. Our driver will drop us off at our hotel, a croissant's toss from Paris' greatest sights. This afternoon we'll visit the stunning Notre-Dame cathedral, the brilliant stained glass windows of Sainte-Chapelle church and take a walking tour through the historic core of Paris. Sleep in Paris (2 nights). Bus: 4 hrs. Walking: moderate.
Day 20: Parisian Masterpieces
This day provides a busy, star-studded finale for our tour. After a practical Métro subway lesson, we'll visit the Louvre with a local guide. You'll be free for the rest of the afternoon, to round out your Paris sight-seeing with a walk down the Champs-Elysées, or perhaps a visit to such legendary museums as the Orsay and Rodin. This evening we'll share a final dinner together. No bus. Walking: moderate.
Day 21: Tour Over After Breakfast
If you're staying on in Paris, today would be a great day to hop on the train and tackle the sprawling palace and grounds at Versailles. If you're headed home, the airports are an easy shuttle-van ride away. Au revoir!
Naturally: Itinerary specifics subject to change.

And please note: That "single supplement" (the price you pay for traveling alone) is $800+. The world might not be made for single people, but if we're willing to pay the extra freight for our privacy, who's to complain?

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Of course now I've got about 14 months to get my sorry butt in shape for this trip. Walking? No problem. Walking while carrying 20+ pounds worth of "stuff?" We shall see. It'll be a metabolic horse race between the amount of food and beverage I'm likely to consume and the amount of calories I burn running around all day. I might end up about weighing about the same, but I'll have Buns of Steel when I get back, even without Suzanne Somers around.

Book Review: Style: Ten Lessons in Clarity and Grace

If you're a technical writer and you've been tasked with creating/improving/translating "Engineerish" writing, you really need this book. Style: Ten Lessons in Clarity and Grace by Joseph M. Williams helped me tremendously with identifying and--more importantly--providing strategies for fixing bad technical prose. I use its lessons daily and consistently refer others to it.

Don't walk--run--and get this book into your hands. You won't regret it.

Political Chaos Theory

There's this cliché from chaos theory that says, if a butterfly flaps its wings in Japan, a hurricane blows in Florida. Something like that. The point being, in chaotic systems like weather or human societies, small initiating events can have large consequences down the road. Another old lesson from history states that we must guard against our baser selves or bad things can happen to us. Call it karma, call it punishment for sin, call it what you will. Today we have a marvelous illustration of both of these effects, but one needs to go back to the butterfly before getting to the hurricane.

About five years ago, an Executive Vice President at Boeing hired a former civil servant to become a Boeing executive under unethical circumstances.

That same year, Senator John McCain spoke before the Senate on Boeing getting a sweetheart deal from the U.S. Air Force for leasing 100 Boeing KC-767s at inflated prices. These two events cemented--in the minds of Congress, anyway--that Boeing was not to be trusted, and that its business dealings were questionable, to say the least. McCain thus led the charge against giving Boeing a sole-source contract to supply USAF with tankers.

Flash forward four or five years. The U.S. Air Force is once again in need of tankers due to the wear and tear of war operations on much of its airborne tanker fleet, which consists of 40-year-old KC-135 aircraft (the tanker version of the Boeing 707). Because of the bad name Boeing gave itself in 2003, the sole-source option was not available. Instead, the USAF went with a competitive bid. The bidders were Boeing, of course, and a team made up of U.S. company Northrop Grumman and its partner EADS (parent of Airbus Industrie, Boeing's major European competitor in building commercial aircraft). The goal was to shoot for "best value," which in government parlance usually means the lowest bidder. The lowest bid would have addressed both aircraft development and long-term operational costs of the fleet.

Despite some rumblings early on that Northrop-EADS might have gotten short-changed by the process, the point became moot when it turned out that they had won, right? Hardly. The game wasn't over.

Boeing's lobbyists kicked into high gear, claiming that American jobs and security were at risk by going with a European aircraft maker; this, despite the fact that Northrop-EADS plans to build some parts of the aircraft in Alabama, among other places. But never mind that: Boeing decided to wave a disingenuous flag of xenophobia, filed a protest, and got the right people in Congress to start raising hell over jobs in Washington going to Alabama and France. This is nonsense, in my opinion. This is like JFK raising hell about the "missile gap" with the Soviets, only to become president and discover, oops, the gap was on the Russkis' side. If anything, the contest was slanted in Boeing's favor, and they still lost; they should just let it go. What's the French word for chutzpah?

But the butterfly's work is not done yet. Department of Defense procurements--especially large procurements like the tanker deal--are rigidly controlled and rule-bound. Contract bids are evaluated by separate teams of individuals based on technical merit, price, management, and (logistical) support. These folks are often put into locked and guarded rooms without cell phones to ensure honesty during the proceedings. Individuals on the boards must disclose all of their financial dealings prior to the review process, and individuals with connections to the bidding companies must recuse themselves and be removed. In the final analysis, even the end customer (say, the Air Force general commanding the tanker wings) does not have the final say in the matter. All of these processes, while laborious and bureaucratic, are established to prevent corruption and influence-peddling within the procurement system. That's why you don't see legislators on procurement review boards.

However, given the fuss Boeing is likely to kick up, that entire system is about to get chucked out the rear hatch to satisfy the chest pounding egos of some folks on Capitol Hill. "Buy American!" will be the new chant, and future procurement boards are now on notice if they attempt similar buys from EADS or other foreign providers.

Here are some other painful truths: the American aerospace and defense industries have become one and the same. The number of competitors has shrunk (leaving at the top of the heap Boeing, Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, General Dynamics, and Raytheon), leaving only foreign competition. Lockheed is nearly out of the big-airplane business, leaving Boeing and Northrop. And if Northrop doesn't have the chops to make all of the hardware they need, they have to look overseas to find bidding partners. The government procurement system prefers competitive bidding. Depending on the item in question, there is usually a minimum threshold of three bidders required before the government will even allow the competition to go forward. If they can't get three bidders, they'll often scrap the procurement and try a new one with a different scope to ensure that they get three bids.

In the aforementioned large aerospace and defense contracting world, the government is going to be lucky if it gets two bids; and given the consolidated American market and the more competitive global market, the odds are pretty good that at least one of the two bids is going to include a company based overseas.

Now I have no doubt that American equipment is still the finest in the world. If it weren't for Boeing, the U.S. trade deficit would be even further in the red. However, as the Big Three auto makers proved in the 1970s, if they're left without competition for too long, their prices go up and their quality goes down simply because they're the only game in town and they get lax. Do we want that, or do we want some competition to keep our folks sharp? And if the competition can't be found here, then we'll have to compete with France, Britain, Germany, or Japan (on matters of defense and national security, Russia and China wouldn't even be in the running because they're on the naughty list; India is still a "maybe" ally). The other alternative is to sole-source everything to one of the Big Three and hope for the best. You might recall all the great press Halliburton has gotten for its sole-source work during the Iraq War.

So we've got a potential long-term procurement crisis on our hands, started off by a lot of butterflies:

• Boeing's bad hiring practices
• John McCain's railing against sole-source contracts for Boeing
• Members of Congress and Senators willing to raise a little nationalistic Cain to score political points
• The Air Force's allegedly botched procurement process
• A potentially deadlocked DoD procurement problem in the future, as review board members start making decisions based on politics rather than cost or technical merit

So what lessons have we learned today, class?

• Behavior matters.
• You can never fully predict the future impacts of your actions.
• Bad situations can be made much, much worse depending on how people react to them.
• What goes around comes around. If Boeing had just behaved themselves, they wouldn't have hired Ms. Druyun improperly, they would still have a tanker leasing deal with the Air Force at reasonable prices, and we wouldn't have a major defense deal going badly in the public media now.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled foolishness.