A Shift in Priorities - Sequel

[rast]

He knew how to say many false things that were like true sayings.
(Homer)

It was not possible to get a passage to Mozambique! Bolama port was only offering a ship link to Luanda in Angola – or to the Cape Verde Islands. What should he do? Spend most of his money for a long voyage to Luanda – on a floating coffin of a packet ship? Without knowledge how to get on to Mozambique and Madagasgar? Or try the islands? It would be much cheaper and the transit much shorter; and for his purposes – laying low and singing small – as good as Madagasgar.

He was no longer Wukr el-Shabbazz. He was Dinho Pequeno now. His Portuguese was still heavily tinted with a Spanish accent, but he was learning. There wasn’t much else he could do. Documents he didn’t need; the natives here had none anyway. Nobody would ask questions – as long as he could pay for the services he required. Passage to Praia de Santa Maria on São Tiago, the main Cape Verde island, was offered once a week. But he had missed this weeks departure and thus had to wait.

Bolama was a drowsy little town of less than three thousand inhabitants on a small island of the same name. There was a bunch of Portuguese, pretending to run the Guinea Colony. They were living a life apart. The natives were either the servants of those idle masters – or fishermen and cashew plantation workers. Both varieties were grinding poor. Dinho, with the appropriated Al’iikhwa Miskin funds, even after ludicrous exchange to escudos, had to pay attention not to arouse suspicion.

Okay, he had ample experience in such things. Looking poor and needy had become his second nature. He would celebrate his fortieth birthday in a few days. And what did he do? Play the pauper…

 

[rast]

The markets are moved by animal spirits, and not by reason.
(John Maynard Keynes)

Preparations for the 1966 election campaign had begun. Max Sikuku had decided for himself it should be his last election campaign. He was going to be almost seventy at the end of it. He felt quite healthy, sure; and the doctors said his body was in good shape – considering his lifestyle. But he was loath of campaigning and of parliamentary work. Not of politics, though. He never would forgo his MALU membership – and he intended to become an elder statesman, without perpetually being harassed by campaigns and elections.

Adele thought he wouldn’t stand the gaff. They would obligate him somehow. He was a political and economical animal. And that was okay for her. Having him sit around at home doing nothing was not a prospect she could embrace. He should, however, gently and littlemeal hand over leadership of Sikuku Enterprises to Otti, but should remain active as long as he was capable of doing and dealing. Retirement was a concept apt for clerks and workers, but not for bosses.

Yeah, but dropping out from the political treadmill was easier than relinquishing his hold on Sikuku Enterprises. He was the boss – and the owner. He had created it. Otti had SEM, the core piece, which she was handling ably. But she also was a young mother. Sikuku Enterprises was a vast conglomeration. And – damn it – deciding was cute! That was what he was doing. The normal work was done by others. He was just taking the crucial decisions, nothing else. And that was something that you couldn’t hand over easily.

Indeed, he would have to relieve Otti from directing SEM. She had to come at his side – and learn everything about Sikuku Enterprises. The crown princess… learning her future trade by watching. Would she agree?

 

[rast]

Illusions are more common than changes in fortune.
(Franz Kafka)

The Russian jumbo had left the Moon – but had not yet been recorded as having landed in Russia. Should that raise concern? Kapitän zur See und Kommodore Johann von Reventlow didn’t think so. Indrik Zver was unarmed; merely the dinghies had been – retroactively – equipped with toy missiles. They had practised shooting on the Moon; obviously hoping it wouldn’t be detected. But of course, it had been detected. Not much to be feared there. Just dumb missiles without remote control. Their dinghies didn’t have the inner workings to support more.

That was why the Feuerdrache’s dinghies carried chain guns. Well, and the onboard missiles were manoeuvrable, although not homing; that technology wasn’t ready for implementation yet. Von Reventlow had been involved in the attempts of developing homing torpedoes for the hunter-killer subs; he knew only too well about the manifold problems encountered. – Anyway, whatever the Ivans were doing right now; they couldn’t jeopardise the Feuerdrache.

One was approaching the Belt. That was what the navigators were telling. But one could see nothing. Nevertheless, braking was in process. Fifteen objects had been identified in the vicinity. One would visit them one after another. He had already ordered the dinghies to proceed to stand-by. Approaching the flying pebbles was better done with the smaller craft, at least until all data had been collected. The Feuerdrache would have to land on the boulder finally chosen, certainly, but not beforehand.

Changing the course of such a boulder was an experiment of sorts. One didn’t have any experience in that matter. The laws of physics were unambiguous, but only the experiment could prove one had applied them correctly. The engineers were talking about multiple burns, but von Reventlow didn’t appreciate this approach. The Feuerdrache was needed elsewhere. One shot had to suffice to send the boulder earthwards. One might marshal it on arrival, but not during transit.

 

[rast]

We must not give ourselves time to think, for in that direction lies madness.
(Edgar Rice Burroughs)

Back from leave, Field Marshal Dang Gangjun had been pleased to find that the pest menace had returned. There was no epidemic raging anywhere, granted, but the threat was there again. Well, as long as it kept the Èluósī rén paralysed, he could appreciate the whole pest fuss. And beyond the border, there was stagnancy indeed. They were sitting in their shelters – and doing nothing. Yeah, once the higher leadership fell short, the ordinary Èluósī rén were prone to mindless idling.

A pity one couldn’t exploit the situation. The Little Man didn’t allow it. Dang had met him on his way back to Manchuria. The Middle Kingdom had weathered the crisis quite fine, even while exports had plummeted because of the border closures. But that had now been remediated; the American markets were open again. Really, the man was an economical fetishist. Yet, he was failing to grill the little allies. The Xiao Riben and their Gaoli bangzi underlings were doing as they pleased.

There were even rumours that they were planning to build a spacecraft, one of these new-fangled monsters – like the Èluósī rén and the Déyizhi were known to be using. That was outrageous! The Great Qing was forced to make shifts with trashy Xiao Riben missiles, while these folks were scheming to fly into space! One needed a national space programme, straight away! And one had to force these minions to surrender their knowledge! His forces were in an ideal position to squeeze them.

Indeed, it was the Gaoli bangzi whom one ought to pocket. They were operating all the nuclear technology, even while the Xiao Riben were claiming to be the nuclear power. The little peninsula was only an appendix to Manchuria. And traditionally, they had been subjects of the Middle Kingdom, hadn’t they? Why not return to the old order?

 

[Radek]

Does the good Field Marshal not understand just what the Japanese response to a Chinese invasion of Korea would be? Or does he assume they woud never dare escalate to canned sunshine?

 

[rast]

To do nothing at all is the most difficult thing in the world, the most difficult and the most intellectual.
(Oscar Wilde)

Mustafa Rüştü Erdelhun Paşa was still quarrelling with the circumstances of his new job. He was supposed to do nothing – because he was the Grand Vizier. His words were supposed to make the earth tremble – and the minions scurry. He should just sit, listen to the advice of his underlings – and finally give orders. It was… stilted. Damn, he was a general – and used to giving orders, but not accustomed to utter inactivity.

He had fought in the Great War, in the campaigns to dislodge the English intruders from Ottoman soil – and in the liberation of Kıbrıs. These had been hard – but glorious – times. Thereafter, he had been involved in the modernisation of the Ottoman artillery branch.

After passing general staff training, he had served in various staff functions before advancing to commander – of an artillery battalion, then an artillery regiment, followed by an artillery brigade, and eventually an infantry division and an army corps.

He always had been a leader of men – and never had been inactive in all these years; inactivity would have killed him. And now, he wouldn’t just sit and listen. He wanted to travel and to inspect the country. The Sultan – who could only sit and give orders, poor man – didn’t mind to be left without him for some time. And the frigging court would have to learn the new tune…

 

[rast]

If you can’t stand solitude, perhaps others find you boring as well.
(Mark Twain)

One had identified what one was looking for. It was a composite object, but about one third of it was established to be a solid chunk of ore. The scientists thought an initial set of concussion charges would separate the ore from the agglomerated pebbles. One had already gauged the size and mass of the ore chunk with great precision – and hence was able to calculate how to propel it towards earth orbit.

Sigmund Jähn had landed the Feuerdrache on the asteroid. The dinghies were still out and scouting. The engineers were now busy erecting the drills, while the geologists were examining the pebble crust. Placing the charges was the centre piece. Everything had to be in place from the start. Once the concussion had occurred, the chunk would be inaccessible.

Jähn didn’t question the wisdom of separating the ore from the stones. He could see that marshalling a solid chunk would be much easier than trying to rope in a soft composite object. Well, one was going to see. The trick was to place the deflexion rockets in a way so that the concussion charges didn’t impair them. The engineers said it was doable. The solid nature of the oar made it possible.

The asteroid had been named Eisenhans. It consisted of 16.35 cubic kilometres of ore – and of 34.27 cubic kilometres of conglomerate. Drilling and placing the charges was going to take two weeks – if there were no unpleasant surprises. The geologists said Eisenhans once had been part of a bigger structure. That was why it looked like a fragment.

 

[rast]

That’s the way with civilized men. When they can’t explain something by their half-baked science, they refuse to believe it.
(Robert E. Howard)

Sheshanaga was looking like a bedbug cut open horizontally. Well, actually like a spider cut open, because of the eight landing legs. But the body resembled that of a bedbug thought Holenarasipur Govindrao Srinivasa Murthy, hence he had taken to calling it like that. Spiders had bodies clearly parted; and the rear part was big, round and soft. That was not the case with Sheshanaga .

One still was waiting for the reactor. PUV said they were busy conducting the final tests; delivery was going to occur next month. That was what they were telling since three months. At least one had been able to implement the removable and replaceable lower section while attending arrival of the reactor. That was positive throughout.

However, the Americans had meanwhile started construction of a second ship. That was quite remarkable. And Lahore didn’t like it at all. In addition, there were rumours that the Japanese – and the Korean underlings – might aim at building an NPP as well. That was highly alarming indeed.

Well, the technology was no secret, and the Japanese were an established nuclear power. The creepy thing was that the Chinese were lurking behind Nippon. Okay, they were the other great power still missing in the NPP club. Perhaps it was inevitable to have them join.

It shouldn’t pose a security problem for the Indian Federation, but the club was obviously getting crowded. And Lahore was fretting about losing rank and being outstripped. Perhaps he should phone PUV again. Keeping up the pressure might help.

 

[rast]

Principles and rules are intended to provide a thinking man with a frame of reference.
(Carl von Clausewitz)

At long last, the procedure of enhancing the US seemed to have been set in motion. In fact, the application of Cascadia had kicked it off. After the demise – due to pancreatic cancer – of President Angus MacInnis – and a subsequent binge of purges – the parliament in Vancouver had asked for admission to the US. Cascadia was huge; it comprised the complete former Canadian province of British Columbia and the western half of former Alberta, plus all of the former Yukon Territory and a good part of the former Northwest Territories.

With Cascadia in the union, the Alaska Territory would be directly land-linked – and the US would eventually form a great continental entirety. If one, however, also accepted the applications of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island, on the table since several years, one would create a new detached entity, Quebec was still holding out, populated by a few freezing – but fabulously rich – Frenchies.

Under the admission clause of Article Four Congress had the right to admit new states. The debate was on. Cascadia was big, very big; that formed a major problem. It would dwarf Texas – and of course all other states. Its population, though, was small – rather close to that of Montana. How could one integrate such an unwieldy thing? The other three applicants were considered uncritical; they would fit closely to the near-by New England states.

Dividing Cascadia wasn’t in the cards; one had to take it – or leave it. But leaving it out would imply criminal stupidity. Declaring it a US territory wouldn’t work either; its democratically elected parliament had asked for admission as a state. – In the end, the four applicants were admitted on May 18th, 1965. Nova Scotia would be the 49th state to join, New Brunswick the 50th, Prince Edward Island the 51st, and Cascadia the 52nd.

 

[username5243]

Alaska and Hawaii aren't states yet?

They were by now OTL, although given the US came within an inch of a full-scale civil war back in the '30s I could see that delayed. On the other hand IIRC the new constitution is a bit more progressive so I'd think they'd be inclined to admit them sooner.

on that note it was mentioned there weren't many people in ex-BC, about as many as in Montana. My understanding is that most of Canada between there and Quebec - even firly southern bits like southernmost Ontario - is fairly empty at the moment due to the Chinese Big Oopsy. Exactly how many people are left in some of the north-central US states (Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, and the northern Great Lakes states) by now, given that central Canada is empty?

 

[rast]

The constancy of the laws of nature, or the certainty with which we may expect the same effects from other sources, is the foundation of the faculty of reason.
(Thomas Malthus)

Forests were growing in the Midwest; who would have ever believed this was possible? Rupert Gordon McCormick was still marvelling over the development. Yeah, it was a forming cold stage, perhaps even an impending ice age. But it was amazing how fast the woods – well, the shrubbery – were spreading. Trees were very slow travellers; evidently a range of animals were helping them to sprawl. And the wet weather was certainly also supporting growth.

It was becoming colder, undoubtedly; the winters were about even, but the summers were getting colder. Not much at a time, yet the downward trend was obvious. If the development should be linear, which it most probably wasn’t, it would take 250 years until tree growth stopped altogether. That was a long time – for a human being. McCormick was aware that forest owners – in old Europe – were thinking in such periods of time, but normal farmers were calculating from one year to the next.

Well, there weren’t many farmers left in the northern Midwest, most had fled – to the greening Southwest lately, to the West before. In the south, however, south of Kansas City and Saint Louis, farming was still possible. Wheat wouldn’t grow anymore, it needed dry and warm summers; but corn did – at least the varieties bred for cold climate. – Yeah, indeed a bulge had formed from Montana to the Great Lakes, where the population had dropped substantially.

It was a creeping process. First, the farmers were quitting. Then, the towns were withering. And no new folks were arriving to fill the gaps. It was strange, the US was growing in the East and in the West, with new states added to the union, but the centre was shrivelling away. – And it wouldn’t get any better; B2G2 was growing continuously. It was only a matter of time, until the East was going to be affected as well. The glacier would not move towards the Mississippi basin, but towards New England.

 

[rast]

Who can determine where one ends and the other begins?
(Sun Tzu)

It only had been an afterthought at first, but it soon had taken off – and become a major topic in all meetings. Of course, it could be done. Strange that the idea hadn’t cropped up earlier. Well, this here was a first for everybody. Raumkolonie was far too small to count. And it was, as a matter of fact, protected by Earth’s magnetic field.

Karl Heinz Beckurts had quickly knocked together the rough figures. The energy requirement would be tremendous. One would have to install another reactor farm. But that shouldn’t be a showstopper. Arx – the current planning version of it – already had six of them, adding a seventh would hardly dab on.

Protecting the colony from cosmic rays by means of a dedicated magnetic field should be worth the investment. The Fuchsian field generators could do that – just as they were capable of hauling in hydrogen or holding a little sun in place. – It was, in fact, a facility that the Phönix should utilize as well.

Beckurts had already contacted Professor Fuchs, who was involved in the planning for the Phönix. – Yes, great idea, very helpful, thank you. Why didn’t I think of it? It’s so obvious… Okay, protection won’t be seamless. No standard field generator ever can defy a fully fledged solar storm in near-sun space. But for Jupiter – and for the Phönix – it should be quite okay.

And so, Arx was putting on more mass. It was amazing. The engineers of the steel producers were only shrugging their shoulders. And Vizeadmiral Kastenmüller had just added the generator and the reactor farm to the list. Inconceivable to forgo such a precious device.

 

[rast]

Future, n. That period of time in which our affairs prosper, our friends are true and our happiness is assured.
(Ambrose Bierce)

He had found something: sick germs! And he had identified three or four viruses that might be responsible for it. It was a big leap forward. The germs were really sick; some of them had even died already. The boss said the whole team should now focus on the viruses. Well, how did one breed viruses?

Next, Konrad Schabunde had prepared a load of cultures, full of tasty BAMS treats. But virus production wouldn’t start. What was wrong? One was groping in the dark. Okay, one would try it with different temperatures, perhaps that would ginger up the little beasts.

Professor Ramsauer, back from hunting horses, wanted to bring in a horde of German virologists. Now, additional ideas would be welcome, of course. But where should these folks work? The lab was just large enough for Ramsauer’s staff and the team from Duala.

A hospital ship! He would conjure a hospital ship – like the S.M.H. Elsa Brändström at Stavanger. That sounded good; a big ship full of workspaces for virologists. It was stupendous what sources Ramsauer could mobilise – if triggered appropriately. When could the ship arrive?

In five days. They were currently installing three STEMs and would put to sea immediately once that had been accomplished. The scientists would be flown in. – Okay, one week… But perhaps – hopefully – one would have solved the conundrum until then.

 

[jerard]

I could definitely see Hawaii and Alaska not having been admitted ITTL. With a POD forty years before OTL admission and the problems the US has faced it is definitely possible that they haven't gotten a large enough population of acceptable breeding, aka white, to out number the indigenous population.

 

[rast]

Accept everything the way it is.
(Miyamoto Musashi)

After the Great War, Japan had bought – of necessity – a good number of former German South Sea colonies – Bougainville, Buka, Nissan, the Carolinas, the Marianas, the Palau and the Marshall Islands, all pretty much worthless pieces of real estate, as the next decades had shown. Well, initially the imperial navy had enjoyed having available multiple bases down there, adding a lot to the costs, but even they soon had realised that the important places were to be found somewhere else.

In fact, the Great War had rapidly led to the decease, sometimes violent, of colonialism worldwide, yet these South Sea backwaters were still sticking with Japan, besides Portugal the last colonial ruler to survive. As long as Nippon was holding tight Korea, she evidently would also retain the tropical islands. Investment had long been reduced to the minimum; most naval bases had been closed. Independence movements existed, but were weak – and soft. Most indigenes seemed just happy to be left alone and live their lives.

The Japanese had ousted the Christian missionaries upon taking over the islands – and never had shown great zeal for civilising the natives. Consequently, the indigene communities had quickly recovered from the cultural shock of nineteenth century colonialism. Was it paradise? Hardly… It hadn’t been paradise before the arrival of the colonial powers; it wasn’t paradise now. Japanese medical care was restricted to the few outposts – and was generally unavailable for natives.

The Japanese had never embraced the conception of assimilating the local elites. Hence, no sons of chiefs had ever been sent to Nippon for being educated; no chiefs were getting preferential medical treatment. In official Japanese political affairs, the islands were playing absolutely no role. They were there, yes, but they were treated as if they didn’t exist.

 

[rast]

Each age tries to form its own conception of the past. Each age writes the history of the past anew with reference to the conditions uppermost in its own time.
(Frederick Jackson Turner)

If there should ever be held a contest in organised neglect, the Portuguese surely would reap the prize. Dinho Pequeno was exasperated. Guinea already had been a striking example, but São Tiago – and the Cape Verde Islands in general – was really taking the biscuit. In his mind, the colonialists always had figured as evildoers, as slaveholders and child murderers. But the first real colonial masters he was encountering – were just doing nothing…

It was an outrage! The natives were simply left to themselves. What evil treachery was that now? He had studied these things, long time ago, in another world. But nobody here was behaving like he should – according to the prevalent academic theories. Those truly behaving like colonial rulers – were the Middle Africans, who ought to be poor victims but weren’t. And in Ala Ka Kuma, the local elites had seamlessly replaced the former French masters in oppressing the populace – without improving anything.

The WAU was perhaps the best, although originally established by the Middle Africans. But they somehow had turned the corner – and had tossed overboard racism and xenophobia. A pity they thought he was a criminal. – Here, in Praia de Santa Maria, he might find a job as teacher, if there should be enough locals willing to pay him. Education was virtually nonexistent hereabouts, at least the secular version. Hence, some progressive citizens, unwilling to send their kids to the Portuguese monks, might hire him.

His Portuguese was poor still, granted, but he could read, write and compute – and was capable of teaching it to others. And educated kids might have a bright future indeed. Not here, true, but somewhere else…

 

[rast]

Matter is spirit reduced to point of visibility.
(Albert von Einstein)

Eisenhans was on its way – minus the rubble, which still was darting along the old course. The engineers had done an excellent job, hats off. The Feuerdrache consequently had turned tail – and was falling back to earth. There wasn’t much to do right now; Sigmund Jähn was idling in his pilot’s chair. This mission had been free of glitch – thus far. That was fine – and bad at the same time. Too much routine was making careless. It was not so that he was asking for an accident to happen, but perpetual inaction was rendering the crew cosy.

Even the captain seemed to think that space was a secure medium. Well, compared to the dark waters where most of his career had passed off, it certainly appeared less threatening. But the Hammer’s fate had shown how fast fate could strike. It wouldn’t always go well. Getting used to a life of ease might be dangerous. – The Feuerdrache, it was true, was the only craft currently travelling through the void. The Russian bus, Indrik Zver, had returned to earth after a short sojourn at their moon base.

One wondered what the Ivans were up to. Their jumbo hadn’t executed one big journey ever since it had become fledged, only near missions in orbit and to the moon. Didn’t they have any confidence? Or were they following some hidden scheme? They were building three more NPPs. Perhaps their great mission was still to come. With four ships, a foray to Jupiter – or Saturn – should be a safe affair.

Yeah, once the Four Sisters were ready, one would embark on the journey to Jupiter – for establishing Arx. That should be exciting – for the crews, less so for the pilots. But until then, one still had to build Himmelsschmiede, to refurbish – or to replace – Raumkolonie, and to marshal Eisenhans. It seemed one was facing a well-filled appointment calendar.

 

[Ciryatur]

How long will it take Eisenhans to reach Earth?

 

[rast]

How long will it take Eisenhans to reach Earth?

See post #3,854.

 

[rast]

Scientists derive satisfaction from figuring out the puzzle. It’s about the quest, not the grail.
(Isaak Ozimov)

Should the Phönix have artificial gravity? Or would acceleration and deceleration suffice? For living an – at least half-decent – life in deep space, having gravity would be paramount. Initially, it had been believed that speed-up and slow down should do the trick. The ship would be driven all the time, that was true. The little sun would be either behind the vessel or in front of it – accelerating or decelerating. However, the effect would be rather small.

It wouldn’t be zero gravity, but far from normal earth standard, about the twentieth part for most of the time. The medics thought it wasn’t enough. Experience showed that even living under lunar gravity – one sixth of earth standard – was precarious. Station personnel had to be replaced on a regular basis – in order to avoid serious impairment of health. – Indeed, it should be optimal if the Phönix crew could travel under standard earth gravity.

Now, the ship would be really huge anyway. Hence, where was the problem? Professor Klaus Fuchs couldn’t see a grave problem here. There was no requirement for a streamlined shape. One could construct a big wheel or a big cylinder as crew compartment. It would mean just a minor complication. – Well, protected by an artificial magnetic field and living under artificial standard gravity even he might be able to do the journey. Only that he surely would die on the outward jaunt. – What about artificial immortality?