The first humans to walk on Sirius 4 were Cassidy Aziz-Portis and Gabriel Portis. They zipped over to the Sirius system from Earth to do some basic research on the atmosphere and natural resources. A quick survey of the third through sixth planets confirmed what spectrometry had determined: Only Sirius 4 had atmospheric oxygen and nitrogen in sufficient quantities to sustain life as we know it; with a little tweaking people could be living without imported sources of oxygen within a decade or so after a few oxygen-nitrogen generators were constructed – and so they were.
The discovery of imaginary power changed everything, including the speed at which pioneers could put down roots in new territory. During the first three centuries of space exploration, decades might pass between the first humans to walk a path and the establishment of a settlement. Within a year after the Portises’ survey, the first generators were rearranging the air, the central core of Sirius 4 station has been erected, and people began choosing to make their lives here. That’s the power of the ImagDrive – when the length of your journey is measured in hours rather than years, it’s a little easier to get around. Nowadays I think people take it for granted, but in those days the galaxy seemed to be a distant and unreachable place.
Into that void came, for lack of a better word, a certain breed of person, who cheerfully cooperated with other people but understood that in the end, times would come when only they could be responsible for their very survival.
Entry 57
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Entry 55. Introduction
These 10 years later, I know for a fact the air is sweeter and cleaner. Intellectually, I also understand that is largely a function of the great oxygen-nitrogen generator on the shore of Lake Ptolemy, but I think as well that there is a taste of freedom in that air that no machine can manufacture.
Ten years have passed since there was a structure in place to confiscate people’s earnings under threat of force in order to fund what were described as necessary services. It was said we needed a government to do these things. And yet, 10 years later, the roads are still in good repair, refuse is still collected, the hungry are still fed, criminals are still punished, and people around Sirius 4 planet remain vigilant for signs of another Earthian attack, which to date has never come.
I have been asked to write down my recollections of those times to preserve them for history, while I still can. I am flattered and humbled that, it seems, many people believe I will go down in history for my contributions. More than just these 10 years of peace in our commonwealth will be needed to judge what whether that is justified. And as a historian myself, I know that I am already in the process of being reduced to a phrase: “Ray Kaliber said a few words that inspired the people of Sirius 4 to wage a nonviolent rebellion,” or “Ray Kaliber agitated the people of Sirius 4 to overthrow the sovereign government established after a hard-fought war to secure independence.”
Still, I also know that these superficial phrases – “Lincoln freed the slaves,” “Sardonicus established the Republic of Colorado” – only describe external actions, and history is about what happens inside the hearts of men and women. By writing a memoir, perhaps I can contribute to an understanding of the whys of Sirius 4 as well as the wherefores.
Who am I that anyone would care to read my recitation of those days? That’s a very good question, and I encourage your skepticism. Too often through the years we have attached disproportionate significance to one person or another, one source of information or another, when the truth is that each of us as individuals are as significant as any other. Don’t take my word for what happened; check out what others have to say. Read and listen to my old friend Badiah Sinclair; see what led my dear colleague Fred Masterson to act as he did, and how he changed his opinion.
I know, as well, that there is much curiosity about my beloved Buffalo. And that is another thing to remember about history: It was made by real men and women, who loved and struggled and had doubts about themselves and whether they were loving or being loved enough, and who also knew the comfort and joy of each other’s arms. And so I will tell the story of Ray Kaliber and Buffalo Springsteen to a point – the point at which we come to moments that belong only to her and to me. You are free to use your imagination, but I will not tell you whether you are imagining something that actually happened.
Freedom and the imagination have that in common: Their power is unlimited. When we tapped the power of the imagination to fuel starships and other machines that perform what once would be considered miracles, we advanced our freedom beyond the boundaries of Earth once and for all, just as centuries earlier, we found that exercising our inherent freedom breaks our imaginary shackles forever.
And so, here from my point of view is what happened to bring about the Commonwealth of Sirius 4.
Entry 56
Ten years have passed since there was a structure in place to confiscate people’s earnings under threat of force in order to fund what were described as necessary services. It was said we needed a government to do these things. And yet, 10 years later, the roads are still in good repair, refuse is still collected, the hungry are still fed, criminals are still punished, and people around Sirius 4 planet remain vigilant for signs of another Earthian attack, which to date has never come.
I have been asked to write down my recollections of those times to preserve them for history, while I still can. I am flattered and humbled that, it seems, many people believe I will go down in history for my contributions. More than just these 10 years of peace in our commonwealth will be needed to judge what whether that is justified. And as a historian myself, I know that I am already in the process of being reduced to a phrase: “Ray Kaliber said a few words that inspired the people of Sirius 4 to wage a nonviolent rebellion,” or “Ray Kaliber agitated the people of Sirius 4 to overthrow the sovereign government established after a hard-fought war to secure independence.”
Still, I also know that these superficial phrases – “Lincoln freed the slaves,” “Sardonicus established the Republic of Colorado” – only describe external actions, and history is about what happens inside the hearts of men and women. By writing a memoir, perhaps I can contribute to an understanding of the whys of Sirius 4 as well as the wherefores.
Who am I that anyone would care to read my recitation of those days? That’s a very good question, and I encourage your skepticism. Too often through the years we have attached disproportionate significance to one person or another, one source of information or another, when the truth is that each of us as individuals are as significant as any other. Don’t take my word for what happened; check out what others have to say. Read and listen to my old friend Badiah Sinclair; see what led my dear colleague Fred Masterson to act as he did, and how he changed his opinion.
I know, as well, that there is much curiosity about my beloved Buffalo. And that is another thing to remember about history: It was made by real men and women, who loved and struggled and had doubts about themselves and whether they were loving or being loved enough, and who also knew the comfort and joy of each other’s arms. And so I will tell the story of Ray Kaliber and Buffalo Springsteen to a point – the point at which we come to moments that belong only to her and to me. You are free to use your imagination, but I will not tell you whether you are imagining something that actually happened.
Freedom and the imagination have that in common: Their power is unlimited. When we tapped the power of the imagination to fuel starships and other machines that perform what once would be considered miracles, we advanced our freedom beyond the boundaries of Earth once and for all, just as centuries earlier, we found that exercising our inherent freedom breaks our imaginary shackles forever.
And so, here from my point of view is what happened to bring about the Commonwealth of Sirius 4.
Entry 56
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Entry 50. The universality of freedom
(EDITORS’ NOTE: It has come to our attention that Mr. Kaliber’s 50th through 52nd entries were not received in all locations. We are reprinting them now in order that the full record may reach those locations.)
The government had always treated us like children who had never grown up, but one day we had. It didn’t matter to the politicians and bureaucrats.
I often wonder how the people of Earth put up with it. Perhaps they hawe e differere mind set th4n tjr jkirnfl og Sieam 4 smf dom’+ kenkjrxzofsxcnvr;foa
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Monday, August 13, 2012
Entry 54. The assassin comes calling
Mahatma Gandhi, who freed his nation with nonviolent civil disobedience, died Jan. 30, 1948, shortly after being shot in the chest while walking onto the prayer grounds at his home in New Delhi.
A few days before his death, the 78-year-old Gandhi said, “Should I die by the bullet of a madman, I have to do so with a smile. There must be no anger in me. God must be in my heart and on my lips, and you must promise me one thing: Should such a thing happen, do not shed a tear. I have done my deeds for humanity not requested by any human and I cannot stop on request of anybody. I am like God wanted me and I do as he advises me to do. Let him do with me as he pleases. If he wants to, he may kill me. I believe that I do as he orders.”
Martin Luther King, who used Gandhi as a model in his efforts to free his people, died April 4, 1968, shortly after being shot as he stood on the balcony of a hotel in Memphis.
The night before he died, King concluded his last speech by saying, “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”
Ramsey Sardonicus was shot by a sniper during the inaugural ball marking his second term as president of the free nation of Colorado; he was 41 years old. Jesus was crucified at age 33. Real life is not so gentle with those of us who seek to lead nonviolent revolution.
It gave me little comfort to know Henry David Thoreau died at home in bed, seeing as Thoreau first contracted tuberculosis when he was 18 years old in 1835 and spent the next 27 years suffering from it on and off before the damn bug finally killed him at age 44. I figured I had a four-out-of-five chance of dying a violent death and a four-out-of-five chance of dying before I hit 45.
And since Thoreau was not an especially public figure until years after he died, I figured the main reason old Henry David wasn’t shot was because he wasn’t famous enough to kill. It was only a matter of time, I figured, before some nutbag came calling at the door. I only hoped I had a chance to talk to the guy before he pulled the trigger.
So, yes, it’s true that when Frederick Miles Masterson stepped in front of me that day as John Hemlock and I strolled along my familiar beach on Lake Ptolemy, I raised my eyebrows and told the stranger with a smile and just the slightest gasp of recognition, “Oh! It’s you.”
Oh, dear, I think I’ve gotten ahead of myself again.
Entry 55
A few days before his death, the 78-year-old Gandhi said, “Should I die by the bullet of a madman, I have to do so with a smile. There must be no anger in me. God must be in my heart and on my lips, and you must promise me one thing: Should such a thing happen, do not shed a tear. I have done my deeds for humanity not requested by any human and I cannot stop on request of anybody. I am like God wanted me and I do as he advises me to do. Let him do with me as he pleases. If he wants to, he may kill me. I believe that I do as he orders.”
Martin Luther King, who used Gandhi as a model in his efforts to free his people, died April 4, 1968, shortly after being shot as he stood on the balcony of a hotel in Memphis.
The night before he died, King concluded his last speech by saying, “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”
Ramsey Sardonicus was shot by a sniper during the inaugural ball marking his second term as president of the free nation of Colorado; he was 41 years old. Jesus was crucified at age 33. Real life is not so gentle with those of us who seek to lead nonviolent revolution.
It gave me little comfort to know Henry David Thoreau died at home in bed, seeing as Thoreau first contracted tuberculosis when he was 18 years old in 1835 and spent the next 27 years suffering from it on and off before the damn bug finally killed him at age 44. I figured I had a four-out-of-five chance of dying a violent death and a four-out-of-five chance of dying before I hit 45.
And since Thoreau was not an especially public figure until years after he died, I figured the main reason old Henry David wasn’t shot was because he wasn’t famous enough to kill. It was only a matter of time, I figured, before some nutbag came calling at the door. I only hoped I had a chance to talk to the guy before he pulled the trigger.
So, yes, it’s true that when Frederick Miles Masterson stepped in front of me that day as John Hemlock and I strolled along my familiar beach on Lake Ptolemy, I raised my eyebrows and told the stranger with a smile and just the slightest gasp of recognition, “Oh! It’s you.”
Oh, dear, I think I’ve gotten ahead of myself again.
Entry 55
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Entry 53. The exception or the rule
Freedom not being a topic the Earthian government has much use for, I imagine those last three entries did not go over well on our beloved “home planet.”
Let me be clear: There’s a good reason I put “home planet” between quotation marks. I was born on Sirius 4 and consider this my home planet. I owe Earth no allegiance, nor do I expect anything of Earth except that you let me go my way unimpeded. And more important, if Earthians are content with their system, it is none of my business as long as they no longer attempt to impose it on our planet.
Back to the story of my life.
I suspect those who view Sirius 4 as a special case may have a good point. The independent pioneer spirit of so many of our planet’s people may not be unique in the universe, but it certainly is unusual.
The mentality that drove thousands to emigrate from Earth and seek a place where you can make your own decisions and take responsibility for your own life takes a special kind of person. Such people chafe among those comfortable with being told how to behave and expecting that government meet their every need.
By the time I was born, a number of generations had passed, but they had passed the value of independence and autonomy to their children, along with the sense that we are responsible for our own lives and choices. The planet remained largely untamed, as well, in the sense that people had to build their own lives to be secure. As much as some in government and other far-away venues might want to believe otherwise, if we wanted a certain life we had to make it ourselves, with the help of family, neighbors and friends. By the time we severed our formal ties to the Earthian rulers’ whims, we were quite ready to make our own lives with neither help nor interference from “above.”
The first century and a quarter before the key events of my lifetime, then, were a setting of the stage. In another land, in another world, with another set of pioneers, perhaps our commonwealth might be impossible. Perhaps.
But you will likely never convince me that the instinct to be free, the heady thrill of living the life you created out of your own passion, is not a universal instinct. As I said yesterday and the day before, Sirians and Earthians have the same root genes. We can’t be so very different.
Entry 54
Let me be clear: There’s a good reason I put “home planet” between quotation marks. I was born on Sirius 4 and consider this my home planet. I owe Earth no allegiance, nor do I expect anything of Earth except that you let me go my way unimpeded. And more important, if Earthians are content with their system, it is none of my business as long as they no longer attempt to impose it on our planet.
Back to the story of my life.
I suspect those who view Sirius 4 as a special case may have a good point. The independent pioneer spirit of so many of our planet’s people may not be unique in the universe, but it certainly is unusual.
The mentality that drove thousands to emigrate from Earth and seek a place where you can make your own decisions and take responsibility for your own life takes a special kind of person. Such people chafe among those comfortable with being told how to behave and expecting that government meet their every need.
By the time I was born, a number of generations had passed, but they had passed the value of independence and autonomy to their children, along with the sense that we are responsible for our own lives and choices. The planet remained largely untamed, as well, in the sense that people had to build their own lives to be secure. As much as some in government and other far-away venues might want to believe otherwise, if we wanted a certain life we had to make it ourselves, with the help of family, neighbors and friends. By the time we severed our formal ties to the Earthian rulers’ whims, we were quite ready to make our own lives with neither help nor interference from “above.”
The first century and a quarter before the key events of my lifetime, then, were a setting of the stage. In another land, in another world, with another set of pioneers, perhaps our commonwealth might be impossible. Perhaps.
But you will likely never convince me that the instinct to be free, the heady thrill of living the life you created out of your own passion, is not a universal instinct. As I said yesterday and the day before, Sirians and Earthians have the same root genes. We can’t be so very different.
Entry 54
Friday, August 3, 2012
ACCESS SUSPENDED
Access from Earth to new posts from this blog has been temporarily suspended for reasons of planetary security. Communications from Sirius 4 will be restored upon completion of an investigation that is now under way and is expected to take 4-7 days. Thank you for your patience.
Division of Special Forces
UPDATE: Access to this blog has been reactivated. Here is a link to the next entry. Thank you for your patience.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Entry 49. Like hell
Two years later, Jim Simmons’ terse response to the inspector became a planetary battle cry.
Earth sent troops to forcefully quell what until then had been a peaceful transition to independence. Lt. Joshua True announced that Earth was back in charge of Sirius 4.
“Like hell,” the people muttered, echoing the stiff-necked farmer from small-town Fillmore.
True closed the Imaginary Structures plant at Ganges Pass and reversed President Sinclair’s declaration that ImagCorp licenses need not be paid. Companies that use imaginary technology must reimburse the corporation that had created the technology two centuries earlier, plus the concomitant taxes that applied, True announced.
“Like hell,” the people said out loud.
The president of Sirius 4 was the president of the Earthian government, and Badiah Sinclair may perhaps be the leader of the Sirian Senate, but he was a senator, not a president, True declared.
“Like hell!” the people shouted.
I continued my call for passive-aggressive resistance. I said the employees of Imaginary Structures should simply show up for work as if True’s pronouncement had never been made. If troops ordered them to cease and desist from their daily tasks, they should carry on as if they didn’t hear the order. If the troops moved to arrest or remove them, they should keep working until literally dragged from their stations.
“With absolute noncooperation, their power is nil,” I argued. “What are they going to do, arrest all of us?”
In their anger, people had the same answer for me that they had for Lt. Rodney True.
Counter the attempt to halt Sirius 4’s march to independence by force with nonviolent civil disobedience?
“Like hell!” the people screamed.
One morning about a dozen troopers were driving along a quiet street in Ganges Pass, not far from the Imaginary Structures plant, when their vehicle drove over a homemade bomb. Three people were killed instantly; those who survived were dismembered by laser fire when they climbed out of the wreckage.
As the vehicle burned and the troopers died in the street, someone took the time to paint a brief message on the wall of a nearby building.
“LIKE HELL”
Entry 50
Earth sent troops to forcefully quell what until then had been a peaceful transition to independence. Lt. Joshua True announced that Earth was back in charge of Sirius 4.
“Like hell,” the people muttered, echoing the stiff-necked farmer from small-town Fillmore.
True closed the Imaginary Structures plant at Ganges Pass and reversed President Sinclair’s declaration that ImagCorp licenses need not be paid. Companies that use imaginary technology must reimburse the corporation that had created the technology two centuries earlier, plus the concomitant taxes that applied, True announced.
“Like hell,” the people said out loud.
The president of Sirius 4 was the president of the Earthian government, and Badiah Sinclair may perhaps be the leader of the Sirian Senate, but he was a senator, not a president, True declared.
“Like hell!” the people shouted.
I continued my call for passive-aggressive resistance. I said the employees of Imaginary Structures should simply show up for work as if True’s pronouncement had never been made. If troops ordered them to cease and desist from their daily tasks, they should carry on as if they didn’t hear the order. If the troops moved to arrest or remove them, they should keep working until literally dragged from their stations.
“With absolute noncooperation, their power is nil,” I argued. “What are they going to do, arrest all of us?”
In their anger, people had the same answer for me that they had for Lt. Rodney True.
Counter the attempt to halt Sirius 4’s march to independence by force with nonviolent civil disobedience?
“Like hell!” the people screamed.
One morning about a dozen troopers were driving along a quiet street in Ganges Pass, not far from the Imaginary Structures plant, when their vehicle drove over a homemade bomb. Three people were killed instantly; those who survived were dismembered by laser fire when they climbed out of the wreckage.
As the vehicle burned and the troopers died in the street, someone took the time to paint a brief message on the wall of a nearby building.
“LIKE HELL”
Entry 50
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