A New Angle

Humans terraform Saturn This story was originally published on 4chan’s /lit/ board as part of a flash fiction collection that would later be released under the name “Simian Deluxe.” Reading it now, I think the dialogue could be improved, but the concept is definitely something I want to revisit.

There was a long pause before Carl responded. “Terraforming? Do you seriously want us to get involved with Mars? The whole project is a fucking black hole, I’ve been saying it fo–”

Matt cut him off. “It’s not Mars, Carl. I brought you in on this because I trust you. Do me a favor and hear me out.”

“If it’s not Mars, then what is it? You want to set up a branch office in the asteroid belt or something?”

“It’s Saturn.” Picture of Saturn

There was another long pause, but this time Matt took the initiative. “You’ve been, right? Two weeks paid time off on Ring City, if I remember correctly.”

“Terraform Saturn? Matt, it’s a fucking gas giant.”

“Answer the question. Ring City, right? What did you think of it?”

“I–I don’t fucking know, Matt. It’s a utopia, everyone knows that. No money, collective ownership of property, you can fuck whoever you want. Where are you going with this?”

Matt leaned back in his chair and grinned. Carl’s sex tourism had been an open secret around the office for years, but hearing him admit to it was still satisfying. “Right, a utopia. A magic city in the clouds where starry-eyed hippies smoke synthetic hashish and sing Kum Ba Yah all day long. Not exactly a place you’d expect a finance company to be doing business.”

Carl groaned. “Look Matt, I still don’t know what you’re getting at, but I need to say this again. The only way we can possibly diversify our market share at this point is to lower our standards. I know you don’t like it, but we simply can’t afford to be picky anymore. There are a lot of people out there looking to buy a gynoid on credit, and–”

“And what if I told you there was a way out of this rut that didn’t involve attaching our name to sexbot pimps?”

“Are you seriously trying to suggest we start offering loans on Saturn? Forget doing business with a bunch of anarchists, the travel costs alo–” Carl broke off. “And just what the hell does this have to do with terraforming, anyway?”

“Terraforming, terraforming. Tell me, Carl, how would you define that word.”

“I don’t know, modifying an alien planet to make it more like Earth. Can you cut the bullshit and just tell me why you called me in here?”

“You can’t define it. In fact, nobody can. Not even the suits who wrote up the Colonization Charter. Ever read it? ‘Any organization contributing to the spread of Human civilization beyond the confines of our home planet is eligible for…blah, blah, blah.’ If we go by the letter of the law, just about anyone can get a federal terraforming grant if they ask for it.”

“But they meant heavy industry, Matt. And high-brow cultural stuff. Besides, Mars has been fucked for years. Nobody even live–”

“Carl, I know a guy who made bank selling office supplies to non-existent industrial parks in the Mariner Valley, all because the government believed he was ‘paving the way for future business ventures.’ Anyone can get a grant. Besides, this isn’t about Mars.”

“Right, it’s about Saturn. You still haven’t explained that.”

“I’ll spell it out for you. From the legal point of view, ‘terraforming’ just means bringing your business from Earth to the hostile environment of outer space. If you can make a case that your field is relevant to ‘life on Earth,’ you’re golden. And there’s nothing in the official literature saying that hostile environment has to be natural.” Picture of Saturn and its moons

“Jesus, Matt, are you suggesting–”

“Yep. We apply for a federal terraforming grant to bring money lending to Saturn. Why not? Our planet practically revolves around debt, all the proof we need is in the history books. In the grand scheme of things opening accounts on Saturn is the same thing as planting trees on Mars.”

Carl opened his mouth to speak, but reconsidered. Matt didn’t give him the chance to think it over.

“And we really are going to terraform Saturn, Carl. We’re going to take what we know and transplant it onto a tabula rasa. We’re going to make Ring City into New York City. Our case practically writes itself, and the payoff is in the millions. How are you going to argue against that?”

“Jesus, Matt, I don’t know. Have you considered the pushback factor at all? We’re obviously jumping through a loophole here.”

“The feds won’t give a shit, they’ve had it in for Saturn since the beginning. The public won’t be interested enough to pay attention. As for the Saturnians, I’ve had marketing work on that. There’s definitely a potential market for Earth products too expensive to pay for in cash – plants, animals, luxury goods they can’t make for themselves. We might even pitch the process of going into debt as an exciting novelty. Boredom is evidently a big problem for the permanent residents.”

Carl kept shaking his head, but didn’t say anything.

“And if you’re going to bring up any moral objections, remember who first suggested we break into the gynoid business because there was such a big market for little robot girls in school uniforms. I hear the girls on Saturn are pretty young, by the way.”

“Enough, I get the picture. No need to twist my arm. Jesus, it’s a long shot but it might just work. What do you want me to do?”

“Advance scouting, I called you in because you’re familiar with the place. We’re going to have to identify the potential entrepreneurs among the Saturnians. Establish dealer-funder relationships from the ground up. There’s a launch window coming up next month, and while you get ready I’ll work with the legal team to put together our case for the review board.”

Carl got up to leave without saying anything else. Matt leaned back in his chair and grinned again.

“Don’t look so glum, Carl. You’re a space explorer on a mission to an alien planet!”


Back Home