Our Christmas Special this year is a peculiar tale of the intimate corners we might create as we leave Earth behind to live in space. It was written by Dr Russel Moul, as his first time penning a radio tale, with the excellent voice of The Astroholic Explains’ team and the ever wonderful Katy Evans.
Listen on Apple Podcast or on your favourite podcast player through Anchor.
Welcome back to The Astroholic Explains! Sit back and enjoy our now Traditional Xmas special! This story was written by our good friend Dr Russell Moul and features the voice of Chris and Katy Evans, and me in a minor role.
Russ was worried his story was a bit too dark for us but I see it as a kind of ghost story which we all know are very Christmassy. It’s a story about the ghost of an uncertain future, and what we do and don’t do in the present.
**Episode starts with strange sounds that gradually fades into background ambiance**
Waiter:
So do you want another round, sir?
Prot:
What?
Waiter:
Coffee, sir. Do you want a refill?
Prot:
Oh. Sorry, I was miles away.
[Focuses on strange noise that only the main character can hear, which gradually fades into cafe background ambiance again].
Must have been lost in my thoughts….
Ummm sure. Why not? Amelia won’t be long, anyway. I’ll have another cafe au lait, s’il vous plait?
Waiter:
Certainly, sir. You know you don’t actually have to speak in French, right? This isn’t really Paris after all.
Prot:
I know, but I just like the feel of the words on my tongue. You know what I mean? The way they flow together sounds so much more exotic than “yeah, a coffee with milk, please”. Besides, it just seems “right” given context, the way the ship has captured that quintessential French feeling here. It’s uncanny really.
In fact, it really reminds me of a cafe my mother used to bring me to when I was a kid. She used to travel to Paris a lot in those days, for work and what not. On the odd occasions she would take me with her, we would end up in a little cafe just like this one where she drank coffee and moaned about the environment while I ate their absolutely perfect pastries.
Jesus, just thinking about them makes me want one.
Waiter:
…and do you want one, sir? We have fresh croissants straight out the oven. I‘m surprised you can’t smell them.
Prot:
Really? Actually, now you say that, I can smell them. God, that would be perfect, I’ve not had croissants since…
[long pause and the sound starts to creep in again]
…since I….
[_The sound gets louder with the voice of the waiter repeating “_Are you okay sir?….Sir?” which is gradually overwhelmed by the noise. This continues for a few seconds but then is abruptly halted by a new voice]
Amelia:
So have I told you about District 10?
Prot:
Huh!?
Amelia:
District 10. It’s an absolute pain in the ass. They’ve got a rat problem. A big one. You wont believe it, rats have somehow managed to infest the lower sewage system over there. But get this, they aren’t just any old rats. They’re cannibal rats. Apparently, a colony of them has been stowed away in the guts of the ship since we left Earth. They’ve since bred and multiplied, living off all the sticky bits that fall out of the sewage extractors, but then their numbers got too numerous! So they started eating each other. You’d think that would be a neat solution, right? Kind of a self-destructive pest, but no! They’ve started fleeing from one another, which means they’re now exploring and have been getting stuck in places where they shouldn’t be.
I mean that’s fucked up, right? Of all the things I thought I’d have to deal with on this journey, an infestation of cannibal space rats wasn’t one of them.
Prot:
[Still listening to the leftover echoes of the sound]
Do you hear that?
Amelia:
[Audibly sipping her coffee]
Wha…? Hear what?
Prot:
That noise. Don’t you hear it? It’s really loud, a constant humming or vibration. I keep hearing it. Are you sure you don’t hear it, Amelia?
Amelia:
I don’t hear anything…. Anyway, as I was saying. These rats. They’ve started popping their beady eyed cannibal faces from toilets, air con vents and any other holes you can imagine. The residents are kicking off. One old woman says a rat the size of a cat appeared in her room, but because the thing had chewed through the circuits, she couldn’t control the door to escape or call for help. So she spent two days trapped in there with it. Apparently security found her standing on a stool trying to beat the thing with a mop. It must have been like that old cartoon. You know, the casually racist one with the cartoon cat and mouse, and the African American owner.
[pause]
Are you okay? You’re not listening…
Prot:
What?
Amelia:
You’re not listening. Are you ok? You’ve barely said a word since I arrived and your coffee’s gotten cold.
Prot:
My coffee? Wait, when did this arrive?
Amelia:
About twenty minutes ago, just after I got here. Are you sure you’re alright?
Prot:
No….I…I don’t… I don’t remember the waiter bringing this over. I could have sworn I was alone only seconds ago, but now you’re here and…
Amelia
And I’ve eaten your pain au chocolat.
Prot
What?!
Amelia:
Yeah, I started taking bits while I was talking to you. Just a corner or two, but I kept going when you didn’t object. All that talk about rats made me hungry. I thought you were just being polite.
Prot
This is really weird. I honestly can’t remember any of that. I’m also pretty damn sure I ordered a croissant too.
Amelia:
Well that can be explained by shitty service. Not exactly a big mystery. We may be in a large cylinder hurtling through space on our way to distant planets and so on, but that doesn’t mean everything is as advanced as our tech, right? I mean we brought with us both the best that humanity can offer, as well as some of the worst. Rats and bad table service, that is life after all. C’est la vie.
But what about you, you seem a bit confuffled today. Are you working late again? You know you get a bit spaced out when you work too hard. Aren’t you writing some big screen play or something?
Prot:
Yeah, I am. Though I’ve not really been pushing it much recently, if I’m honest. I’ve hit a bit of a brick wall. I feel like I’ve been working on the plot for years now and it never progresses. I’ve become some literary Sysiphus, but rather than pushing a boulder up a hill, I’m putting words on a page only to delete them again. Over and over and over. And yet nothing progresses, nothing changes.
Amelia:
Well that’s not strictly true, is it? You’ve managed to have a pretty successful career so far. That’s one of the reasons why you’re here in the first place. When the committee was choosing who to appoint to each ship, your name was right up the top of the list of ‘people of interest’ due to your various cultural contributions and cinematic successes. They really thought a name like yours would encourage other talent to join the enterprise.
Prot:
Oh come on now, that’s not true.
Amelia
It is. You were the big hook that caught the other fish we needed for this weird pond we’re creating. Having a colony of humans heading off to populate other planets is one thing, but a crew of STEM folk wouldn’t exactly be representative of all humanity has to offer, would it? Can you imagine how sterile that would be? The first civilization on Earth 2 would be fully operational within a generation, but what the hell would we do with ourselves if we didn’t have something more to take with us, to create. The next chapter of human history, this interstellar moment, cannot just be about expansion, settlement and reproduction. We’re not an invasive species of mould, despite what the cranks may say.
Prot:
You’re flattering me…
Amelia:
I’m not. We’re the next phase in a great story and that story needs to be vibrant to thrive. You’re just as essential to this aim as any engineer or physicist. I mean think about it this way. Sure, you may be struggling at the moment, but doesn’t that make it all the more worthwhile? You are the first person to write one of the first movies in space that will be filmed by a team of actors and a crew on an actual space vessel. How meta is that?
The story will be broadcast back to Earth, to those left behind, to show that they too are part of this mission. And that’s what it’s about, right? The story. Being part of a great chain of expansion, knowing you’re involved in a process that extends beyond yourself and connects us here now to the successes of future generations, to our grandchildren or great grandchildren who finally settle on a new world and make it something amazing. We won’t see it. We will be long gone, but we are an integral part of that story now.
Prot:
[Pause]
Wait… That sounds familiar.
Amelia:
Yeeeeah, I may have paraphrased your acceptance speech for the mission; but it worked, right? That’s what this is all about. You yourself spoke about the importance of being part of a narrative, how without it, nothing makes sense. Well here we are being part of the great narrative of humanity.
Prot:
You’re right. I just feel a bit off, that’s all. I’m sure I just need to take it easy. Being here helps. For some reason this little parisian-style cafe helps me think.
Amelia:
You do seem to be drawn here when you’re feeling unsettled. The moment you recommended we meet here I assumed you might be experiencing some issues again. It’s funny how places can become a signal of wider things. Another interesting human trait.
So why do you always come here?
Prot:
You know, I’m not sure. It’s something about this place that makes me feel…something. Something I can’t quite articulate. I think it has something to do with my mother. Weirdly enough, I was just telling the waiter about it. This place is so similar to a cafe she used to bring me to when I was a kid. Mum worked for an NGO at the time and was massively involved in the climate crisis and would regularly take part in protests and demonstrations in Paris. I sometimes travelled with her and we would walk along the banks of the Seine where she would show me the sights while whining on about the “coming catastrophe” and how, “by the time I’m a man, this whole area of the city will be underwater”. I think there were some floods in 2016 or something that sparked initial concerns and then there were the really bad ones a decade or so later that killed a load of people. That’s what started it for her. She never really let it go.
Amelia:
Even after we sorted it?
Prot:
Exactly! God, how redundant it all was, eh? Think about all the fuss and fear generated back then by those catastro-philes and their apocalyptic mewlings. In no time, thanks largely to our scientific brilliance, we sorted that mess and got on with real issues. Earth is fixed and now we get to take part in space exploration, and future generations of humans can not only look forward to travelling in space themselves, but to visit distant relatives on the other side of the galaxy.
Amelia:
From Mother Earth and out into the cosmos, humanity has reached its maturity.
Prot:
Huh, yeah exactly. Mother Earth does feel a long way away now though…. I really should message my own mother to give her some updates… Wait. When did I last send a message home?
[Pause as the sound starts to rise again]
I…I can’t remember. I can’t have been that long ago, but I can’t remember. And how long have we been up here for?
Amelia:
Oh I’m sure it’s been…
[Protagonists starts to breathe heavily as the noise gets louder]
Prot:
Wait. I don’t remember at all, I don’t even remember agreeing to the mission. When did I join? When did I board the ship? Amelia, wha…what’s going on? Why can’t I remember?
[Noise gets louder still]
Amelia:
Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok. Calm down and just listen to my voice. Everything is fine, it’s just some mild dyssynchrony. Breathe slowly…there’s nothing to worry about.
Prot:
[Gasping for breathe]
What…what do you mean? Dyss….dyss-what?
[Noise gets softer as we hear protagonist breathing slowly]
Amelia:
Readings say you’re almost conscious so I might as well explain. Dyssynchrony, it’s what happens when your consciousness starts to fight against the simulation. It happens from time to time, especially when we’re running updates and you start to notice errors in your immersive experience. The sound you keep hearing is actually the ambient hum of the immersion pod you’re connected to. Normally you don’t notice it, but when you’re waking up it can become quite overwhelming.
I am sorry about this, sir. I know it’s not what you paid for but we should have it sorted soon. I just wonder if I can ask you a few questions about your current state of mind so I can feed it back to our technical team and hopefully stop it from happening again.
Prot:
I…I don’t understand what you mean. Simulation? Technical team? What are you talking about?
Amelia:
Yeah, your memories are going to be a bit jumbled for a while. Your mind is trying to piece together what’s real and what’s part of the MITh. It’s like trying to remember your real life while you’re still in a dream. You see bits of it floating about in your mind, but it doesn’t quite link up properly. It’s like thought soup. That will pass with time if we don’t re-induce you, and the sooner we do that, the easier it will be for you to reimmerse into the fiction again.
Prot:
This isn’t real? This is a simulation?
Amelia:
Yes, the MITh. That’s what we call it. Well, that’s what you called it. Metanarrative Immersion Therapeutics – MITh. Not your best naming convention, I must say, but the shareholders seemed to love it. Very pithy.
Prot:
Shareholders?
Amelia:
Yes, shareholders. Eugh, I do hate this phase of dyssynchrony. You just repeat words I say while I become a vehicle of exposition. Yes. This is a simulation, a simulation you partially designed.
Prot:
I design…I helped make this?
Amelia:
Yes, this whole thing was your idea, and it’s been really successful. Once the challenges of our world became too much to handle, we needed an escape plan and you provided the way to make it not just bearable but actually enjoyable. You developed MITh as a way to free us from the challenges ahead of us.
Prot:
And what about you? If I’m in a simulation, does that make you some sort of AI programme or something?
Amelia:
No no, I’m a real person. I’m your PET – Personalised Experience Technician. I monitor your interaction with the MITh and limit the number of stumbling blocks or events that might trigger dyssynchrony.
Prot:
But I’ve known you for years; we’re old friends. Right? You feel so…so familiar. Is that not true or has this all been part of the fiction? How can that be fake?
Amelia:
It’s kind of true. We have known one another for some time now, but not in the way you think. Each participant in the simulation is matched with a PET who helps them navigate and personalise the experience in order to optimise immersion. Usually I don’t need to interfere directly in the simulation itself, but every now and then I have to actively enter it to make sure you don’t start spooking yourself. Kind of like you are now. We tend to enjoy a good chat over a coffee before straightening things out again.
Prot:
And you said this thing, the MITh, I designed it to give people an escape? What do you mean?
Amelia:
As I said before, things got pretty bad in the first half of the twenty-first century, and so there was a greater demand for distractions or ways to disengage from it. There were several early efforts to perfect immersion experiences but the problem was, we just weren’t all that good at it.
In earlier versions of the technology, participants had a hard time staying immersed. It turned out, we were operating with a faulty assumption of what people really wanted. Our guiding belief back then was that free will and autonomy were all that mattered, that people would engage more meaningfully if they had control. So rather than implanting them into a pre-constructed narrative, they were dropped into a virtual space where they could play God.
Prot:
Christ, this is too much. I can tell you now that I certainly don’t feel like a god. I barely feel in control of myself and my fate at any given moment.
Amelia:
Well exactly. And that’s kind of the key really. In those early days, participants could more or less construct their world themselves. They could create their identities, meet their ‘friends’, play games, design their avatars and blah blah blah. It was rather basic really. But even with that unlimited creative potential, participants couldn’t stay separated from reality. Even as would-be gods, they couldn’t be happy. We measured significantly high levels of anxiety in the subconscious of those early participants and, more amazingly, we found that these ‘anxieties’ were actually manifesting in their worlds too. It was fascinating; some sort of feedback loop was picking up on feelings of guilt or stress and projecting them into the virtual environment. We called them Ghosts. Little signals of dissatisfaction and angst bleeding into people’s constructed worlds and giving them glimpses of the types of things they had left behind or echoes of their own emotions.
Prot:
Oh I think I see. So let me guess. Your ‘participants’ as you keep calling them, struggled to stay in the simulation because what, that way of existence isn’t sustainable or meaningful enough?
Amelia:
Bingo!
Prot:
So following this logic, which is apparently – so you’re telling me – my logic, having the power to create your own world is one thing, but it loses its novelty and actually leads to more guilt. I guess even the gods of the old pantheons were subject to forces beyond themselves. They were embedded in a flow of time that predated them and they were themselves subject to the will of the Fates. If you want to give people a meaningful escape, they need to believe it transcends them.
Amelia:
That’s exactly it, and that’s when you came along. You had the key insight – narrative. Participants needed to feel like they were part of something bigger. Like they were contributing in some significant way to something beyond themselves, even if that something was itself a fiction that they willingly embraced. With that, we created The Great Story, or Stories to be more precise. Participants can immerse themselves in an existing narrative that extends into an indeterminate future. We found that the more simplistic the narrative, the easier it was for them to stay in it and the fewer glitches or Ghosts appeared in the system. Customer satisfaction skyrocketed.
This particular story is one of our favourites and was also designed by you. What’s better than a story where an individual is helping to progress humanity into a bright future? It doesn’t even matter that the participants themselves are not at the centre of this narrative. They are largely happy to just plod along as background characters on an intergalactic vessel knowing they were taking part in some multigenerational project. Lives can be sustained on this basic plot.
The moment we started running MITh, dyssynchrony rates dramatically decreased. Participants stay blissfully immersed for years at a time and only occasionally wake up when we fiddle with the programme or add updates. Then it’s just a case of getting their consent to return to the simulation, before gently inducing them again. It’s all very straightforward, if not a bit repetitive for us.
Prot:
So, wait, has this happened before? To me?
Amelia:
Oh yes, about half a dozen times I’d say. You’ve been going in and out of the simulation for the best part of two decades now. It’s funny, you always come here, to this cafe, when you start to wake up. That’s why I was asking you about it earlier. I’m trying to figure out what it is about this place that always signals an approaching dyssynchrony episode. What I can’t figure out is whether this is a cause or a symptom for you. Do you come here and then it triggers your subconscious, or do you come here because your subconscious has been signalled and you’re looking for a point of orientation? It’s a mystery. I mean, you were nearly there earlier when you said this place reminded you of your childhood. It seems so familiar because it is the cafe you visited as a kid. You insisted we add it as a feature to the environment when you designed the MITh. If I can speak frankly sir, I believe that incorporating a memory into the simulation, especially one associated with the place where your mother drowned might make you more susceptible to the dyssynchrony.
Anyway, I think, with your permission, sir, we should remove the cafe next time. We’ve had issues with other participants who became agitated when encountering features of the real world they willingly bring into the simulation. There’s actually a PhD student writing a thesis on this as we speak.
Prot:
Next time…half a dozen times…Fuck…. And I always agree to go back under? Why? What have I left behind that’s worth this…this cyclical lie?
Amelia:
The Earth is gone.
[Pause]
Well not exactly gone, but it is largely uninhabitable for most people. Sure, there are millions still living down there, but after a few decades of missed opportunities, provaracating and general apathy, it became too late to make a difference.
Prot:
Is there really nothing that can be done?
Amelia:
No, not anymore. The Earth is largely a poisonous and overheated rock and there’s no magic wand to make it better. But you were able to leave that behind and can now live a meaningful existence in the MITh. We currently have five MITh stations in orbit around the planet, and each station has at least a hundred thousand inhabitants at a given time. You of course get the premium programme though, as you’re one of the creators.
Prot:
The world is rotten then? And this is it for us, for humanity? We choose a convenient story to lose ourselves in because a simulated reality is better than actually needing to do something when it was necessary. We sit in our pods, plug into our stories, only waking up occasionally before finding a reason to go back under and forget about it. We’re lost in our lies?
Amelia:
Yeah, pretty much. I mean you can always decline re-induction and go back to the planet if you want. I’m sure there’s plenty someone with your wealth could do to help those who can’t afford this experience. That’s one of the reasons I’m here, in fact. I’m working on the program just to be able to afford a premium package myself one day. “We all know this is a lie, but it is a sweet one”, right. Those are your words again, not from an acceptance speech for a fictitious space voyage mind you, but from the speech you actually gave to launch the MITh. It was very touching, they served champagne I’m told.
Prot:
So what should I do?
Amelia:
That is up to you. It’s always been up to you.
So, do you want another round, sir?