New Story: “Maricourt’s Waters, Quiet and Deep” in No Police = Know Future

I’m thrilled to announce that I have a new story out!

“Maricourt’s Waters, Quiet and Deep” takes place on a terraformed Mars where different ideas of justice have taken hold in different, mostly independent city-states.

Take Aala, for example. They’ve scratched out a living for themself as a petty thief and pickpocket in the glittering, turbulent spray cast up by the endless waterfalls of Marineris City, where profit is king and men like Vasilis are its loyal, vicious servants. Kirsi, on the other hand, comes from Maricourt, where community, equity and compassion hold sway.

A rocket ship statue stands before some buildings and a blue sky

The most Aala ever hoped for in Marineris was to slip through the cracks, to avoid Vasilis’s wrath and out of the local law enforcement’s damp and dreadful holding cells. But all that’s all behind them, now, as they travel to Maricourt with Kirsi–who, for some reason, doesn’t think they’re scum and wants to spend actual time with them.

Maricourt and Kirsi between them give Aala more hope than they dare to admit, but theft is the only way they know how to survive. Will a change in surroundings lead to a happy ending, or will a slip back into old habits ruin their run in Maricourt before they ever had a chance to start?

If you want to find out, you’ll have to read “Maricourt’s Waters, Quiet and Deep,” out now in No Police = Know Future, edited by James Beamon and available here from Experimenter Publishing.

No Police = Know Future

“What does a future without police look like?”

That’s the central question asked by the No Police = Know Future anthology, which came out in mid-December from Experimenter Press, the publishers of Amazing Stories Magazine. With stories from me and seven other authors, including Holly Schofield, Lettie Prell, Jared Oliver Adams, and Anatoly Belilovsky, the anthology presents some possible answers.

Also, if you’re reading this before December 27th (as opposed to in the distant future) you can also attend an online launch party for the book!

Join editor James Beamon and some of the authors (including me) December 27th, 2020, at 1pm Eastern Time to chat about the book, the future of policing, and the meaning of “justice.” Check the details here on the Amazing Stories website for information on how to attend.

“Maricourt’s Waters, Quiet and Deep”

At the core of my story in the anthology is the concept of restorative justice.

What is restorative justice? According to the Centre for Justice & Reconciliation (CJR), it’s justice that “views crime as more than breaking the law – it also causes harm to people, relationships, and the community.”

This seems pretty obvious, but where restorative justice often surprises people is that it considers the reintegration of offenders and victims as part of its concept of “justice.”

That’s not to say that victims are less important than offenders. Rather:

Offenders also face stigmatization. Since crime causes fear in the community, offenders become vilified in the eyes of society. Incarceration separates them from their families and communities. Upon release, offenders frequently lack stable support structures, and even start-up money for food and clothes, housing, transportation, and other parts of a healthy productive life. At the same time, offenders face discrimination in their attempts to become productive citizens.

Centre for Justice and Reconciliation, “Reintegration

So what does restorative justice look like in real life? That’s a tricky question, and its worth noting that there are many disagreements not only on how to implement it, but what it even is and whether it might (intentionally or otherwise) still cause harm to offenders.

The central idea, though, is one of respect. Respect for victims and respect for offenders, giving the former restitution while still allowing—and encouraging—forgiveness for the latter so they can become integrated into society, less likely to offend again and less likely to need to. Restorative justice is about healing and support, not punishment and submission.

Would it be a perfect system?

No, of course not. No system is perfect.

But consider the following:

  1. There are well-documented racial inequities caused by longterm socioeconomic trends that the US criminal justice system ignores
  2. Imprisonment and similar punishments are likely to increase reoffending rather than reducing crime over the long term

Given the above (not to mention all the other things wrong with criminal justice in the USA today), why not try a system that doesn’t treat every single person who commits a crime as a malicious actor who needs to be taught a lesson? A system that acts from a humane, compassionate impulse rather than a neurotic, rules-obsessed, inhumane one? A system where the main idea is to actually help people?

If these questions intrigue you, or if you’ve just never thought about it before, I’d encourage you to read up on restorative justice at the links above. (Of course, you can also see how I approach it in my story!)

But what about Mars?

An artist's conception of a terraformed Mars (Maricourt Crater not pictured)
Look closely: that’s Mars, not Earth!
Image credit: Daein Ballard. Used under a CC-By-SA license.

“Maricourt’s Waters, Quiet and Deep” is set on a terraformed Mars, where water is plentiful on the surface — as you might have guessed from the title.

The story opens as Aala and Kirsi take a monorail over a lake at the center of Maricourt Crater, and the metaphor of water as peace and justice runs throughout the story.

Marineris City, where profit is king? Turbulent waterfalls that fall ever downward. Maricourt? A tranquil lake which glitters in the sun. (Okay, so it’s not a very subtle metaphor.)

Mars has historically been associated with water in the form of canals, which don’t make an appearance in my story in particular (a missed opportunity, now that I think about it!). And of course, water development and management would be essential on any human-livable Mars.

All of which is to say: if you’re just here for “future terraformed Mars,” I’ve got you covered there with this story, too.

New Story: “Five Things I Hate about Phobos” in Nature Magazine

I have a new story out today in Nature Magazine’s “Futures” column, titled “Five Things I Hate about Phobos.”

a heart made of electromagnetic coronas surrounds Phobos
Illustration for the story, by Nature‘s regular story artist Jacey.

The story’s about love and the potential of loss, and ultimately asks the question of whether our eventual but inevitable demise is a tragedy or somethinge lse. You can read it (and a brief author’s note) online here in all its glory: https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-020-03505-9

In the spirit of the listicle-style title, I’ve come up with what you might call “Five Things about Five Things I Hate about Phobos.” If you’re into that kind of meta stuff, read on!

We need to go deeper
So meta!

1. It’s set on Phobos

classical Greek floor tiles
Look at this guy, such a charmer.

Okay, pretty obvious from the title, probably, right?

That’s Phobos the moon, not the personification of fear and panic in classical Greek mythology.

Mr Fear and Panic makes a cameo, though, at least sort of, with the narrator commenting on how messed up it is that anyone would actually want to live on a moon named after him.

A moon which, incidentally, has an orbit that will eventually decay so far that it will crash onto the surface of Mars or break up into tiny pieces around a hundred million years hence.

2. It’s my fifth appearance in Nature

Which I actually didn’t notice until I checked just now!

That makes the title — and this post — even more numerologically concerned, especially given my Discordian tendencies. And that’s yet another connection to Classical Greek mythology, given that Eris, the goddess of discord and strife, is Discordia’s principal deity.

Hail Eris! All Hail Discordia!

Most of my other stories appear in the sidebar on the Nature site when you read the current one, or you can dig them up from my bibliography here, as well.

3. It’s got nonstandard pronouns

One of the characters in the story, Tashi, uses zie/zir pronouns.

If you’re not familiar with these, they work just like any other pronoun. Zie is the singular third person form (like he or she), and zir is both the object (him/her) and possessive (his/hers) form.

Zie (often also spelled ze) is a gender-free pronoun most commonly used online, so you can think of it as similar to they/them. Although if someone uses zie, that doesn’t necessarily mean zie identifies as nonbinary, or even considers zirself “gender free” at all — and it definitely doesn’t mean you should use they/them instead when referring to someone whose pronouns are zie/zir.

4. It draws on traditional Japanese aesthetic ideas about impernanence

The word “wabisabi” is somewhat of a buzzword in English design circles, used to describe a sort of vague “imperfectness” that’s treated as a catch-all for a Japanese-inspired aesthetic.

Actually, though, “wabisabi” is two specific terms mashed together: wabi (侘び) and sabi (寂び). Because these words share similar elements aesthetically, they are often connected into a single word: wabisabi (侘び寂び)

To be fair, judging from the number of Japanese-language articles titled things like “The difference between ‘wabi’ and ‘sabi’,” confusion over this often-paired set of terms is rampant even within Japan. (Which makes sense. How many people can easily rattle off a clear explanation of art nouveau as a design aesthetic?)

However, although these words are often paired, and both have something to do with accepting impermanence, they’re pretty different terms.

So what does wabisabi mean, exactly? According to the article linked above, from Japanese newspaper Mainichi Shinbun, wabi is “the emotion you feel when things are calm and quiet,” while sabi is “the emotion you feel when something is old or withered.”

a ceramic bowl that has broken and been repaired with golden lacquer
This 16th-century Korean tea bowl was repaired with kintsugi, a Japanese repair aesthetic where “breaks” are an important part of the object’s history — often mentioned as an example of “wabisabi.”

Those definitions match up relatively well with the ones in jisho.org (my favourite Japanese-English dictionary), where wabi is “austere refinement” or “enjoyment of a quiet life,” and sabi is “elegant simplicity.” Taken together, then, wabisabi can be considered a feeling conveyed by something that’s simple, calm, old, and withered. More generally, it’s used as shorthand (at least in English) for “imperfect” things, especially those which were broken and then repaired.

Although life on Phobos in my story isn’t exactly elegant or refined, it’s hard to imagine the life of space-dwelling people to be anything other than simple in the near future. And accepting that — along with the fact of our own inevitable demise — would be pretty important.

On the other hand…

5. Celebratory light show!

A central part of the story is a festival held by those living on Phobos. This festival involves electrostatic charges and corona discharge on the satellite’s surface — which are a real thing, at least according to this Nasa study from 2017.

a glass orb filled with blue-white rays of light like lightning
A plasma globe, one type of corona discharge familiar to many US school children.

In the story, those living on Phobos gather on its surface and sing, holding hands around a crater in a ceremony called The Harmonia (remember Eris? Her Roman equivalent was Discordia, which is Harmonia’s antonym. Levels within levels, man! Levels within levels…).

The narrator of the story finds this uncomfortable at first, but although they don’t admit it in so many words, you can read between the lines and see that their participation in the ceremony is the point at which the story pivots from “I hate this place” to “I’d hate to see this place disappear.”

Do they get to the point of acceptance? Well, you’ll have to read the story yourself to find out.

Check out “Five Things I Hate about Phobos” in Nature now!