Raymund Eich

Science fiction and fantasy - from Middle America to the ends of the Universe

Hi ,

Today is September 11, which for Gen X is as epochal an event as the JFK assassination was for boomers. Sometimes it seems hard to believe that the event has fallen so far out of popular perception in the last 22 years. But on the other hand, how many Americans in 1963 remembered the anniversary of Pearl Harbor? The war it started was over, plus Americans had more immediate concerns (JFK had been assassinated only about two weeks earlier).

Which is a reminder that life, whether a person's, a country's, or a species', is never going to be easy. That's a good thing. Purpose and meaning come from facing challenges, not from living well after overcoming them.

So when I say the future will be awesome, I don't mean in the two-jetpacks-in-every-garage sense of consumerism and limitless material plenitude. (Though I agree that barring bad luck and poor planning, material plenitude will be the norm. Most human problems for the rest of time will be first world problems).

Instead, the future will be awesome because our science and engineering skills will be major components of the toolkit we'll use to tackle big challenges of meaning and purpose.

A New Science Fiction Short Story

Questions of meaning and purpose, for societies and individuals, abound in my latest published story, available now in ebook (only 99c) and print single ($7.99, ISBN 979-8856743158).

The colonists of the asteroid Khufu, and colonists with similar cultures on two other asteroids, have figured out a solution for the damage the harsh environment of space can inflict on the gene pools of small, isolated communities.

A solution that repels Iphigenia, rebellious daughter of one of Khufu's leaders, and moves her to take bold action when a rare spacejock docks his ship.

The kind of man she'd been taught to fear.

Her only chance to choose a life for herself.

Hiding behind a tank of molten uranium salts, Iphigenia's chewed fingernails gripped the radiation shielding and her dark eyes watched the man she both craved and feared to talk to.

Inside the dock, the spacejock did maintenance work on his ship. His oval face clashed with his haircut, buzzed on the sides and long enough on top for his brown hair to float like seaweed. Wiry mustache and beard. Cargo pants and multi-pocket vest over a threadbare T-shirt. Not handsome, not at all.

But she didn’t care about his looks. The way he would care about hers, if he saw her.

The spacejock was about to round the curve of his hull out of her sight when her fingers lost their grip on the shielding. She shifted her grip to her other hand. Soundlessly. She thought.

Without turning his gaze away from his ship, the spacejock said across the echoing space, "Are you going to show yourself?"

Just 99c at:

Amazon

Kobo

Other stores

Till next month,

Happy reading!

Raymund