T. K. F. Weisskopf - Cosmic Tales - Adventures in the Sol System

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- Prologue

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- Prologue

INTRODUCTION

Why do we need tales about "Strange adventures on other worlds, the

universe of the future"?

T.K.F. Weisskopf

"To imagine is not to fashion charming make-believe. . . . Out of the known or knowable,

Imagination connects the remote, reinterprets the familiar, or discovers hidden realities."

—From From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life, Jacques Barzun

As I write this it is the eve of the hundredth anniversary of the Wright Brothers' flight off the North

Carolina dunes. And I have come to realize that I am not going to be living in the age of humanity's

great expansion into space. I will not be on the Nina, the Pinta nor the Santa Maria, let alone the

Mayflower. Instead, I am living in the age of St. Brendan and Lief the Lucky. I can witness humanity's

first tentative steps in the direction of the endless frontier—but the chances of me, personally, getting

out there are small. Still, at least I can read stories about it! If we as a species are going to get there, we

have to remember that we want to go.

I've long thought that it's one of science fiction's most important jobs to explore the future in fiction.

Decisions about what kind of future we want to aim for can be played out in the pages of our magazines

and novels. As Travis Taylor's story and article illustrate, the dreams of the writers become the dreams

of the engineers and scientists who shape the direction of our technology. You want to make a difference

in the world—write science fiction that will touch the hearts of these people.

It seems obvious to me that staying on one planet is a dead end for humanity. And I like humanity, in

general, if not all its specific manifestations. Flush from conquering a new continent Americans of the

early twentieth century had a positive vision of the future. We in the West went from horse-drawn

carriages to rockets in less than fifty years. Now, in darker times, we seem to be on the road to losing the

stars, losing the urge to explore. Science fiction needs to clear away the light pollution and show us the

glories of the stars again. Show us where we can go next. Show us where progress should lead.

One of the most positive visions we can have of the conquest of space is that it will be strange and

dangerous, but also in some ways familiar. There will be humans, living their everyday lives, albeit in

exotic locations and only because of amazing technological developments. Several of the stories herein

describe that kind of existence. And some take us a little farther beyond. . . . There is beauty and wonder

in this universe, and whether man makes it his business or God ordains it, it is a noble calling to answer

to destiny, search that wonder out and reveal it for future generations.

If you'd like to see more Cosmic Tales, there will be another volume coming out later in 2004,

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- Prologue

Adventures in Far Futures. If you'd like to see more beyond that, or to comment on these volumes, write

to me care of

Baen Books,

P.O. Box 1403,

Riverdale, NY 10471.

Or you can write directly to me at

toni@baen.com.

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Framed

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- Chapter 1

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- Chapter 1

MCANDREW AND THE LAW

Charles Sheffield

Scientist and dreamer Arthur Morton McAndrew was one of my favorite science fiction

characters. He was one of Charles Sheffield's, too. In his introduction to The Compleat

McAndrew (made incomplete by this story, by the way), Charles referred to him as an

alter ego. Charles loved speculating about how far science would go, and his nonfiction

volume Borderlands of Science is invaluable for any science fiction reader. For the

McAndrew series he always included an afterword telling the reader just where the known

science in each story stopped and the speculation began. Charles Sheffield died last year,

soon after completing this story and before such an afterword could be written. Science

fiction will be the less for his passing.

It's widely accepted that there's no such thing as a free lunch. I suppose anyone with a brain in her head

would realize this applies equally well to dinner, but some people never learn; so there I was, sitting

across the table from Professor Limperis and fully expecting him to pick up the tab.

He's a wily old bird who puts a high value on his time, a fact which I've known for as many years as I've

been visiting the Penrose Institute. And today we were far from there. I was on vacation, ready to follow

the progress of the Grand Solo Solar Contest out in the Belt. What were the chances that Limperis had

traveled several hundred million kilometers for the doubtful privilege of taking me to dinner?

At the moment he was busy telling me that it was hard times for the Institute, with research budgets

squeezed tighter and tighter. I nodded sympathetically, but to be honest my mind was otherwise

engaged. I like to gamble on the outcome of the Grand Solo Solar Contest, and a prime entry for the

GSSC had just entered the dining room. I guessed that he massed between five and six hundred kilos.

In the GSSC, fat is good because the contest is just what the name suggests. You do the Belt-Jupiter-

Mars run alone, with no assistance. "No assistance" means no fuel, no food, no water. Also, no ship.

You are provided a suit with an oxygen supply and built-in fusion and chemical drives. Solo means solo.

The materials to power the drives have to come from the competitor's own body.

That's where judgment enters the picture. The chemical and fusion drives are lipid based, and a

competitor draws reaction mass only from his or her own body fat. That's why the hard-to-say "Grand

Solo Solar Contest" is better known as Fat Man's Run.

With some people, the will to win inevitably takes over. In a pinch, the drives run at reduced power on

muscle and sinew. I have seen a competitor, what was left of him, dragged out of the race by the

marshals when his total body mass was down to sixty pounds. He might recover, after a fashion, but he

would never race again. He would also never walk, run, or have sex, even in low-gee. When I saw him,

skin hung off his spongy skeleton like rags on a frame of twigs. And still he was complaining about

being removed from the race.

I became aware that Professor Limperis's eye was on me. He knew I had been distracted by my potential

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-PrologueBack|NextContentsfile:///K|/eMule/Incoming/0743488326___0.htm(1of3)1-1-200715:14:51-PrologueINTRODUCTIONWhydoweneedtalesabout"Strangeadventuresonotherworlds,theuniverseofthefuture"?T.K.F.Weisskopf"Toimagineisnottofashioncharmingmake-believe....Outoftheknownorknowable,Imaginationconnectsth...

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