The Other Planets

Today is the first day of the winter break, and I am already ready to be done and over it, but there are ten days left. My birth father has asked for permission to take me “camping,” as he calls it, on one of the dark lakes of our Satellite Moon. Because I am in the 3rd year of my Astronomical Engineering and Coding elective, my instructor encouraged the trip. The lack of light and electrical interference on the other face of the moon will allow for observation which our earth equipment can’t replicate.

But I’m not really interested in the observation of the stars. It’s the development of interstellar vehicles that I’d like to pursue. I love to drive in space, and the new technology is just amazing. Once you’re out of the pull of gravity, there are no limits. I once hit 4.67 auS. That roughly equals 180 thousand MPH, if you don’t know your astronomical terms. And that was only on an academy training vehicle, an E-43, which is grossly out of date. But I modified the thrusters and re-coded the limiter to allow for increased speed. It was thrilling. I relished every moment until the training vehicle was due to be returned.

But there won’t be anything like that on this trip. My birth-father, Eric, is a lander. He doesn’t like to leave the ground, and I’m surprised he even suggested this trip. But he’s been trying anything lately.

The Global Authority of Education requires that students retain relationships with their genetic “families” for the duration of education. At least, that’s the official position. In lower level classes on humanities, they told us that it’s because community and heritage are somehow ‘important to human development.’ I think that’s based on outdated science, and soon the rules will stop reflecting those old-fashioned ideas. But currently, the academy practice is that birth family contact is four times per term, virtual chat, and twice per year physical visit. Most of us do it much less often. For instance, when I was young, I grew to dislike the visits of my birth mother, and eventually applied to have them dismissed, which was granted because she had been tardy for several visits. She was only Basic level educated, and worked at a food distributor, I believe. Our visits were never pleasant for me, and as I’ve gotten older and reviewed the video, I see that she, too, seemed at a loss to know how to relate to a child. It was better for both of us to go our separate ways, and the school officials were modern enough to see that.

But my birth father has been persistent. He has never missed an academy appointment or failed to send the appropriate communication. In my early years, I felt quite warmly towards him and would eagerly count the days until our physical visits. He had some tricks- swinging me by my arms in the gymnasium, and he taught me to whistle by putting both of my index fingers against my tongue. I remember being fascinated that he had the same strong, dark black eyebrows that I did, though he is a man, and I am a female. Basic genetics, I now know. But at the time- it seemed like some sort of magic.

He was the only adult that ever gave me physical affection, as well. He would put his arm around me, and occasionally I would sit on his knee, and we developed a custom of wrapping our arms around each other when we would greet or depart, which I believe came from his ethnic culture.

But in my twelfth year, I was given the honor of taking an extended course in East Russia, on the island of Old Japan. I missed four of our visits in that time, although we continued to communicate through video, and when I returned, I was aware of the unprofitable and antiquated nature of our previous physical habits.

Since then, our relationship has decayed. To his credit, he has continued to attempt to contact me and to maintain some sort of connection. I’m not sure why, actually. I am only three years from emancipation and graduation, at which time affiliation with genetic relatives has been proven scientifically to have no developmental or marketable value.

But I am not yet emancipated, and so I have no particular reason to decline this “camping trip.”

I have begun this log of my journey, so that I may, when it is over, perhaps dissect it for some scientific value. Perhaps I may find clues in this new venture to some of my more dis-satisfying personal habits and quirks. I have three that I am aware of. First, I have had night-terrors. Though I have used all the recommended therapies and supplements, I often wake in the night with a heavy anxiety, with a ridiculous sense of paranoia. As usual, because it is day, I can describe it with detachment and confidently say that it is some sort of neurological deficiency that I no doubt acquired in my early days. Some nutritional deficit caused it, I am sure. But in the night, my logic cannot overcome the sensation of fear, dread, and the incredible sense that I am being chased or hounded. I have used the full spectrum of noise distractions and even attempted to use the time to apply myself to my studies. But it is not satisfactory, and I am growing desperate for a solution.

In addition, I find that I have two illogical urges- the first, to be secretive and … free. This is troubling, because it has been proven that complete transparency with superiors and with the ES, (electronic surveillance) is the most conducive to success in the marketplace and community. And yet I find myself continually seeking out blinds- you know the dips in the ES where there is no monitoring. Those rare spots where I am disconnected seem to be, well, a bit- like the race I took in E-43. I have internally noted at least seven such blinds, and find that when I have occasion to slip into them, I cannot resist. I should report them, so that they can be re-coded, but I cannot bring myself to do it. I am hoping that the extended time on the dark side of our moon, which is essentially all blind, will fulfill whatever it is in me that seeks this out, so that I can resolve it.

The last urge that I have is this archaic “Contact” urge. Perhaps it began with my birthfather, and our strange arm-wrapping custom. But I find that I take a perverse delight in the contact I occasionally have with other people. It is inappropriate and unprofitable to physically harass another by intentional body contact, and only the most gross and vile people, who are rightly despised, do such things. And yet. There is no avoiding the occasional meeting of two bodies while working together, or exercising, or socializing. It is accidental, and if unintended and irregular, forgiven easily between acquaintances. It is a yet-unavoidable practice. Perhaps they will perfect personal pods in the future that allow for complete isolation and the prevention of such things, but though they are functional, they have yet to be wholly adopted. In the meantime, I am ashamed to admit here that I have been secretly delighting in the occasional bodily contact that I have encountered, and have even, to be honest, contrived to make it happen when I have seen the opportunity for it appear unintentional and unavoidable.

Those are the extent of my failings. Of course, there are other qualities that I would improve upon- my cardiovascular ability and my knowledge of code-welding. But those I have a plan for. These other three have perplexed me and are not of the nature that would allow me to create a plan for improvement.

But I am hoping that while in such a strange and novel environment, I will perhaps confront my inner urges and have a new perspective to eradicate them. This log will serve me as a place to catalogue and examine them.

Because of the embarrassing nature of these issues, I have taken advantage of a small coding glitch that I have recently stumbled upon, and re-written the source to make this log unsurveilable. I do not intend for this to be permanent. I believe, in general, the code that says that submission to authority is the best path to success. But in practice, my immediately authority is a woman who has repeatedly proven to me that she lakes sense and learning, and has been promoted above her level of excellence due to some illicit crony-ism. If I were to allow her surveillance of this log before I have completed my experiment, I believe she would not see the value and would choose to report me for my urges to the therapeutic center. I, however, believe that a few short weeks of personal experimentation will allow me to explore options that will not only solve my personal problems, but will provide alternative solutions for others who are experiencing these issues.

I realize that secretism and dis-trust of authority are two extremely dangerous things. And so I will give myself this limit, that I might not fall into further error: I will keep this log only until the return of our Moon trip. At that time, if I have not made significant progress, I will abandon this project.