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You could be forgiven if you didn't know the history, for thinking that this place was somehow stuck in a previous century. A whole lot of weirdness washed under the bridge, leaving the surface appearances intact. This old town has about the same population it once had, and although there's no longer such a thing as the "United States Navy," the former shipyard, which for an age was used to break up the remains of the previous age's "nuclear deterrent" is now home to a fab. Okay, sure, the fab doesn't employ anyone. Products are made and sold and shipped with not a human involved. Metal de-orbits into the Pacific water-landing zone (best not to ask where in the asteroid belt it's coming from), and is brought in across the Juan de Fuca seawall. The seawall — It's the main reason the entire region isn't under 70 feet of ocean.

Jobs? Work is where you make it. Basic income and fair housing and free medical and as much school as you can stomach — These days folks are free to find the work which makes them happiest. It was that way even before the changes — Even before things went weird on us. Some people say it’s a paradise. Others not so much. Can’t make everyone happy.

Yep, you'd be forgiven for thinking that all that weirdness missed this place completely. The entire region looks like some throwback to the old normal.

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Category: [science fiction]
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(A Robert Burns / Seanan McQuire Fan-Fic Mash-Up)

 

Tae ye ah kin be a wee timorous beastie;

A' sleeket 'n' quivering ’n’ cowrin’ in mah breestie

Ah’ must start awa hasty.

Yet yer laith to rin an’ chase me

Wi’ murd’ring pattle? 

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Robert W Chambers 1895

in th’ auld Scottis leid

 

Alang th' shore th' clood waves break,

The twin suns sink behind th' lake,

The shadows lengthen

In Carcosa.

 

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Category: [science fiction]
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I’m issuing an art challenge to any and all illustrators fan and pro. Delightful Steampunk Multi-Ethnic Fairy Seamstresses with Rocket Packs. Draw them, paint them, sculpt them. All the results are yours to do with as you wish. The below text is from my notes on my work-in-progress “Shrödinger’s Lincolns” or “The Notorious Case of the Four Missing Presidencies” in which Abraham Lincoln is both dead as of 1865 and dead as of 1883, and this is creating all manner of multiversal chaos.

 

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