The Chicago polyport was busy, as in, really busy. In its heyday the old O’Hare Airport was the busiest in this part of the world, but nothing compared with all the traffic around the polyport. But for all the traffic above, inside the place was… placid. There were a few people walking around or drinking coffee and whatever else was popular down here. And none of them were waiting for me.
Sammie hung about a bit and was about to taste one of these coffee things when she felt the alert. She listened to the message, looked down, and saw her sherpa which she followed to her hosts. Evidently, they were being super careful with Sammie’s identity and had sent the sherpa instead of just leaving a message. The overall culture was slowly unlearning its Fiat ways and at least a few people would still be addicted to violence.
It seems that the people in this part of the world were still worried about viral transmission because they offered none of the hugging and kissing that she had experienced in the Beijing Pod.
Their transport came and it was the plain vanilla type with none of the flare Sammie had seen in the Beijing Pod. As they were getting in, the taller woman (what was her name?) mentioned something about our President. At first, Sammie wasn’t sure what she meant, but as she talked it became clear that she was talking about a big boss type called President. Well, not quite. At least not quite like the old USA Presidents, but still… Sammie made a mental note of it but decided it was not the time to dig into it. Her neuromorphics were trying to fill in, but she ignored them.
Sammie ended up sharing a living space with Tula (the taller woman) who turned out to be very easy to talk with–and she was full of trivia. Speaking of Asia,” she said, “did you know that the Cultura Libre movement started there? A bunch of different places claimed to be Cultura Libre’s birthplace. The Castilian speaking folks at the oYard claimed that it had started in the Caribbean, maybe in Puerto Rico, or Cuba, or perhaps Venezuela. But Tula was right and Sammie’s neuromorphics confirmed it. They had used Castilian because it was very popular and it had words for gratis and libre while English conflated both concepts.
Nina Paley, Sammie’s hero and champion of free culture, would have enjoyed the whole thing, except she died just before people eliminated copyright and patents and their choke on culture. While riding her recumbent bicycle, she had been run over by one of the last petroleum powered vehicles manually driven by a human.
Tula said that they were aware of the issue with having a President, but that it was symbolic, like Kings and Queens in what used to be Western Europe. Still, Sammie couldn’t get why anybody would spend energy on that kind of thing, as if they were something to be proud of. Why not have a Chief Inquisitor and have him perform symbolic Actos de Fe?
Two days before Sammie planned to head back to the oYard, she heard Tula talking with somebody at her front door. In no time at all her voice got louder and she sounded pissed off. She came out just as Tula was slamming the door, hard. The windows were capturing what was going on outside and Sammie could see what seemed like a Mod recording crew outside, with their drones and all the rest.
One look at Tula’s face told Sammie all she needed to know: somebody had tracked her down and wanted to put her, the goddamn “First of Earth,” in the timelines. Shit. At that moment Sammie knew that she wasn’t going to move to Surface and she wasn’t going to stay in the oYard, either.
Without saying much, Sammie picked up her stuff, and hugged Tula goodbye. Sammie could see Tula tensing as soon as she started to move towards her with her arms spread, but it was one of those things where she couldn’t stop herself. After the awkward hug, she left through one of her back windows.
Sammie knew that there would be drones waiting outside, but like all her oYard clothes, her jacket had active multi-frequency reflectors. All the drones could do was capture a blur that would not be worth publishing. Most of the drones followed her all the way until she crawled into a sleeping tube and took her hiber pills. Eventually, her tube along with many others were on their way to the Orbiting Shipyard.
By the time Sammie woke up we had already switched to the space transponders. The Galanet was abuzz with “First of Earth” this and “First of Earth” that. Sammie figured that a whole new Mod series about this would come out soon.
Unfortunately, because of this mess, Sammie didn’t get as much time as she wanted to visit the town of Lebanon, in the St Louis Pod. That’s where the paternal side of her family had settled when they left what was the country of Lebanon in the early 1900s.
Sammie’s Child
At the age of 19, Sammie had a child and she named him Munjez, an homage to her great-great-grandfather’s birthplace. Thankfully, other children had already been born in the Edge settlements and Munjez was not “the First of” anything.
Sammie and Kiki had agreed on having Vic be Munjez’ dad so he could be in his life, too. Vic didn’t turn out to be a very attentive father, or very present. Except for the rare occasions when Vic parachuted in, the two women were raising Munjez pretty much on their own,
Victor Boswell
Vic was a pretty happy guy. Pretty much of-the-moment and with no life-long aspirations. He had truly enjoyed his ten years in space, off Surface. The oYard had been somewhat constraining, but he nevertheless appreciated the close community it supported. The ability to tumble in 3D space was the greatest experience. He might have been born a creature of gravity, but space was his home, it was his destiny.
He was not ready for Sammie’s question when she asked. They were close and had had sex before, but this was different. Having a baby with her was another thing altogether. He asked her why she didn’t just not draw from the sperm bank? Every habitat had one and each represented humanity in all its shapes and colors! But her response made sense, Yes, but I know you and I’d like my child to know his father.
Sammie’s request had changed him. The fact that he was going to be a father had changed him. He began to see the world differently. Out of the blue, he wanted to do something his son could point to and say, my dad did that!
He insisted that he was going to be part of the kid’s life, but she knew he wouldn’t be. He got frustrated dealing with people slower than him, and children, by definition, are slower. But Vic was sure that when he grew up, he’d appreciate what “his dad” was going to create.
The Boss
Funny, the language they use, Sammie said, It’s all so self-important and it must be meant to make people feel bad for always falling short of their idealized new man. They published some kind of a rant and at the end justified the whole thing with ‘this is simply for your damn good. Who’d come up with something like that?”
Yes, not very convincing, Kiki chuckled. Then she added, It’s something that good, ole’ Vic would say. Sammie stopped what she was doing and she asked, Did you just say Boswell? Vic Boswell? Kiki snickers, Umhum… I am sure you have deep memories of him. When she noticed the silence, she turned to Sammie and something was definitely not right with her. Are you OK? Why did you ask?
Kiki, I think Vic is the Boss!
After a moment of hesitation, Kiki broke out laughing. Oh, for crying out loud, Samantha Bellamy, that’d be way, way too obvious. BOSS-well, really? No way!
The Mountain Comes to Muhammad
OK, so if Vic won’t come to be with Munjez, then Munjez is going to visit him. Before things get any stranger over there, I want Munjez to spend some time with his dad. That was the whole point of having Vic father him.
Kiki was not all happy about Sammie’s decision, but she was right. Can’t you reach out to him again and ask him to come. He promised.
I’ve done that a bunch of times, Kiki, and he won’t respond. Lately, he doesn’t even show up in the Mods or anything. I don’t want to have to tell Munjez that his father died or some other awful lie.
Sammie, he’s just a baby. There’s plenty of time before you have to tell him anything.
I know, but it’s more than that. If we want him to really know his dad, then they have to start interacting now. It’s like learning a language, it starts from day one, otherwise your brain removes any connection that is not reinforced by the environment you grow up in. No dad, and your brain removes what could have been dad processes. I think it’s worth the trip to give Munjez, and Vic, a chance.
You Won’t Like It
In space, she was not a celebrity, but she was well known. In any case, she had spent a lot of time here while they were finishing the Minor habitat and she had worked and lived with a lot of these people. As she went to her quarters it was all, Wow, long time and Hey the little one is not so little anymore, or Hey, you look just like your Mod. Vic, of course, was nowhere to be found. She was almost done setting up the room for Munjez when he finally showed up.
Sorry, I’ve been very busy. I have not spent much time in the Mods but I wasn’t avoiding you. Sorry.
Sammie almost launched into a lecture but before the words came out of her mouth, she realized it would be a waste of time.
Hi, Vic. Would you like to say hello to Munjez, you know, your son? She could not help it.
He walked over to where Munjez was sleeping and looked at him. For a moment it looked like he was going to pick him up, but he backed off. However, he kept looking at him and it was a tender, almost longing look. There was hope, Sammie thought.
How’s Kiki?
She’s fine and worried that I am out traveling with the baby, even though she knows this is the safest place we could possibly be.
His attempt at chit chat was pathetic and he looked uncomfortable. Sammie wanted to give him a break and try to inject humor into the conversation. By the way, you wouldn’t happen to be the Boss, would you Vic Boswell?” She emphasized “Bos” as she pronounced his surname. “Kiki thinks that’s funny.
Yes, I am.
That’s not funny, Vic, was all that came out of Sammie.
I wasn’t being funny. You asked me a question and I gave you the straight answer.
He had a half smirk on his face, as if knew what was coming next and you didn’t. That look normally made him attractive, but not now.
Vic… you are the Boss. Is that what you just said?
Twice before, yes, and yes again for the third time. Come on, Sammie, you did figure it out. Oh, wait, you did and Kiki thought it was funny. Got it. So why did you come if not to ask me face to face?
I came to have Munjez spend time with you. As she was saying it, she knew that he was right. “OK, so I asked you and you answered and I couldn’t be more disappointed. But, WHY?” She stopped and calmed herself down one deep breath at a time. “Forget I asked why. The important question is, are you going to spend time with Munjez? I am not worried that you’ll infect him with your bullshit, he’s too young for that. But I do want you to spend time with him. If you can’t because of your guru duties, then I’ll go back and I’ll figure out what to tell Munjez about you. And, don’t worry, I won’t make you the bad guy.”
“I’ll spend time with him. Actually, seeing him in real life did make an impact on me. You did the right thing coming here with Munjez. More than you know.”
Vic seemed more relaxed after saying that. He offered to sit down with Sammie and explain what’s going on. “You won’t like it, but you’ll grok it better once you know what led to all this.”
Catching Up, Catching On
They found each other in the multihall. Vic was already there and he was chatting with a short stocky guy. Sammie kind of remembered him, but could not place him. Sammie sat down and the stocky fellow left after giving her a weird glance and a weirder smirk.
After they were alone, Sammie got right into it.
“Given all the secrecy, you’ve obviously already ejected transparency out the airlock. And the fact that they call you the Boss pretty much tells me that decentralization is out, too. So much for Commitments, then.”
“Transparency is not ‘out the airlock’ as you said. You asked me if I was the Boss and I told you without hesitation.”
“Yes, but that’s only because you’ve known me for a very long time and you know there was no point denying it.”
“Transparency is about not hiding things, but it’s not about broadcasting them, either. I would tell anybody who asked. If that’s not being transparent, then…”
“Vic… does that line of thinking really work on people that have grown up in a RADICAL environment like these people have? Really?”
“I would tell anybody who asked like you did. If that’s not being transparent, then…”
“Hasn’t anybody pointed out that transparency is about not surprising the very people who are going to be impacted by a decision? And what you aim to do surely would impact, y’know, HUMANITY! Except it’s not going to spread beyond the reach of your voice.”
“That’s your interpretation of transparency, but we are being transpar…”
There are no versions of transparency, she interrupted. “You are either transparent or you are playing with words. You are plenty smart, and you are good at playing with words. But, tell me: are you dictating what everybody’s purpose is, too? Are you going to put the kibosh on experimentation unless sanctioned by you?” Vic was going to say something, but she would not let him. “And, let me guess, meaningful is whatever comes out of your mouth and they’ll be part of whatever group you tell them to join. So much for Principles. That’s a heck of a, I don’t know, rebellion?”
Correction. As in, course correction.
“Correction? What in the universe does that mean? Our RADICAL culture is broken and you have the fix for it? And you got that from, let’s see, aliens you met while on a stroll outside? Vic, are you hearing yourself? What’s happened to you?”
Munjez. Munjez happened to me. Actually, before that, when you asked me to be his dad. It opened my eyes to what was lacking in our society.
And what would that be?
Respect. Acknowledgement of those of us who are naturally superior. Like you. And humility. All of those things are missing but they are necessary.
“Don’t bring me into this… Wait, what about Munjez and what do you mean by ‘necessary?’”
“Remember when you asked me if I wanted to have a child with you? At first I said yes like I would to most of your ideas because crazy as they may sound at first, they are always solid. But afterwards, it made me think and I saw myself from a perspective I hadn’t seen myself before. I was 22 then and I had not spent any time thinking about anything beyond next week, but just the idea of being a father changed that. That’s when I realized that I had to make my mark, I had to do something that would make Munjez proud of me. And I wanted it to be world changing.”
“That’s very sweet and touching, Vic. But what do you mean by the necessary things that are missing? And why didn’t you talk to me about this before?” And then, with a shade of sadness in her voice, “Vic, we talked all the time, before, during, and after Munjez was born. Until a few months ago, we talked all the freaking time. Why…”
“Because I knew you would rebuke me. The youngest Bellamy would not go against the Bellamy ideals that took over humanity. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, you have a platform and could prevent me from leading this charge.”
“Bellamy tradition… ? Vic, I wouldn’t have rebuked you, but I would have suggested that you run an experiment. Instead it went from your head into full production. Universal domination, that’s what it sounds like to me. In any case, I just wanted you to spend time with…” She froze mid-sentence. Then she gave him a furious look, got up, and ran back to her quarters. But it was too late and Munjez was gone.
