After an awkward silence, the other protester spoke up, “Well, perhaps not all of them your majesty…” at which point his colleague jabbed him in the ribs, “She’s not royalty, you twerp!”
“We’re just not at all happy with the work, you know. And the pay. The work and the pay are both atrocious. You realise we have to spend all day chasing after those idiotic constructabots? They really do make terrible mess.”
“Tell her about jumpsuits!” prompted his friend.
“Da, and we are most definitely not happy about colour of jumpsuits!”
“Wrong shade of orange?” suggested the Minister for Space.
“Why do they need to be orange at all? It is, how you say, inhumane!”
Captain Watkins had had enough by this stage. “Look, we appreciate your concerns. Please, put them in writing and submit them to your supervisor and we will look into them.”
The workmen were escorted out of the room and the decibels returned to a more civilised level. Until, that is, the android carrying the drinks found his tongue.
“Would you like soya in your drink, ma’am?”
ANDROID RIGHTS
Since the introduction of intelligent, articulate and fully functioning humanoid robots, the issue of android rights has never been far from the surface.
The UK Government’s position is that androids should be used in any situation where the use of a human would be too hazardous, inefficient, or very, very tedious. It has thus far failed to reach a consensus on whether or not to recognise that androids have any rights whatsoever.
Some have asserted that, as with other previously unprotected minorities, future generations will judge us on how we treat those who are oppressed, face prejudice, or who are otherwise too weak to stand up for themselves. Others have pointed out that the term minority should obviously only apply to other human beings, preferably ones with very similar lifestyles, hairstyles and bank balances to themselves.
Still others have noted that if future generations are so concerned about us doing the right thing, they are more than welcome to travel back in time and swap places with us, as that would probably make everyone a lot happier.
UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition
After lunch, Captain Watkins and the Minister for Space returned to the conference room and were joined by the rest of the spaceport command and control committee.
“I would like to conclude this section of the presentation, Minister, with a simple 3D graphic showing how resources are being allocated between the various departments.”
“Er, one question, lance-corporal, what have hedgehogs and voles got to do with the efficient operation of a modern space facility?”
“Ah, yes. So I’ve used the pedagogical device of woodland creatures to clearly demonstrate the differing quantities in question. So. First we have the Badger. Chunky fellow - very well built. He represents staffing costs. Moving along, we find Mr Fox. Cunning animals, foxes…”
Captain Watkins interrupted this unusual display of professional bravura by gesturing to the pair of androids standing guard either side of the conference room doors. They leant close to him and he whispered something to them at which point they looked at each other, gave a menacing metallic grin and a gravelly chuckle. They each then took one arm of the hapless lance-corporal and dragged him backwards out of the room. Even out in the corridor, he could still be heard pronouncing the relative merits of stoats and weasels.
Captain Watkins impressively continued as if this sort of thing was perfectly normal. “Which I believe brings us, rather neatly as it happens, to the question of the Mars Colony, and in particular the vetting of candidates.”
Susan McKenzie, Minister for Space, was still staring at the translucent conference room doors. Scuff marks from the lance-corporals dress boots were clearly visible.
“Minister?”
Susan closed her mouth and looked at the Captain. She then opened it again. “Quite, quite, yes jolly good. So, vetting, what’s the proposal?”
“Simple really, I propose that all civilian volunteers are to be scrutinised by properly trained military space officers.”
“Good, I think that makes sense. What’s the, er, you know, quality of the candidates so far.”
“Ah.”
“Yes?”
“One might hope for more.”
“More candidates, Captain?”
“More quality, Minister. Plenty of candidates, as it turns out. Mars being a rather popular destination amongst certain sections of society. Distinct lack of quality though.”
“Right. Going to be a problem?”
“It all depends on how you see this whole Mars Colony thing panning out. You know, in terms of civil disobedience, productivity. Life expectancy. That sort of thing.”
“I’m not sure I follow you Captain. What exactly is the problem with the quality of the volunteers so far?”
“The problem? What is the problem with the volunteers, Minister? The problem is they are lunatics! Yes, certifiable!”
“I’m sure it can’t be as bad as all that? Can it?”
“If I might make a suggestion?”
“Carry on, lieutenant,” said the Captain.
“Perhaps if we make a start with the vetting process, we will get a clearer idea of whether or not we are getting the right sort of personnel?”
“Good idea. Any objections Captain?”
“No, Minister.”
“Jolly good. I shall leave it in your hands to organise the necessary military staff, and we can give it a go.”
“Ma’am.”
EXO-COLONISATION
For many years, following the successful mission by the United States of America to send astronauts to the Moon in the latter half of the 20th Century, the United Kingdom has felt, well, narked off.
To alleviate this feeling of inadequacy, His Majesty’s Government has made it official policy to pursue an aggressive programme of exo-colonisation, that is, the colonisation of other planets, starting with Mars.
The Mars Colony will serve to project UK power beyond the realms of terrestrial constraints (and some might say beyond the constraints of logic, reason and good manners).
Phase One consists of establishing basic infrastructure, laying the groundwork for a self-sufficient community based around the growing of traditional British vegetables, and performing basic scientific research that will prove once and for all that the UK is at the forefront of all that is peaceful, sustainable and blatantly expansionist.
UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition
The next day, Science Officer Tiggy Beauchamp received formal notification of her next posting. Excitedly, she opened a vis screen call to Dyson.
“I’m going to the Moon, Commander!”
“That’s great news Tiggy,” came the slightly muffled response as Dyson finished his gluten-free bagel. “When do you leave?”
“One month. I’m to make myself useful around the spaceport until then.”
“Excellent. Well, unless you have any other ideas, may I suggest you give me a hand with my exciting new assignment?”
“Which is?”
“I’ve got to interview the Mars Colony volunteers. Looks like there’s about a thousand applicants for each seat on the transport. Should be fun. No really.”
“Okay, I’m in. When do we start?”
“Oh I don’t know - want to saunter over to the recruitment block in about 5 minutes?”
“I’ll be there!”
Five minutes later
“So this pile are the ones we’ve already decided definitely to reject.” Commander Hunter placed his hand on a teetering pile of application forms about a foot tall.
“And these ones?”
“These ones we’ve not made our mind up yet.” The second pile was scanty to say the least. “We’re probably going to have to interview all of them in person. That’s where you come in, Science Officer.”
“Okay. How do you want to do this? Half each or were yo
u planning to do it together?”
“Let’s take half each, get it over and done with, hmm?”
Spaceport West Page 3
